


Far And Beyond

by mellomskyene



Category: SKAM (TV) RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Henjei-Relationship, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-03-05 10:33:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellomskyene/pseuds/mellomskyene
Summary: It wasn’t supposed to go this far, to feel this real. It was just curiosity at first, a goal to achieve in order to put an end to everything they had before without regret.They were wrong, but now it's too late.





	1. Stop staring at me

**Author's Note:**

> Don't take it too seriously  
> I hope you'll like it despite my bad english :)

_“We should meet again soon.”  Was the first text Tarjei sent to him after the last time they’d seen each other at a party, two months ago. He just had a bad week and all of his friends had cancelled their plans for the weekend, claiming they were too busy with family meetings, and so he really hoped that Henrik could at least bring him a little fun for one hour or two._

_To be completely honest it wasn’t really usual for Tarjei to send him a text, Henrik was always the one to send the first “Hello” or some joke, because Tarjei didn’t want to seem too clingy (Henrik wasn’t single after all, it could had been a little weird if he’d contacted him too often)._

_Also he never knew when was the right time to send a text nor what was the best thing to say to a friend who you used to kiss for months. Tarjei couldn’t help but be a little awkward around Henrik, especially when he was constantly catching his eyes on him,  each time they were together._

_He knew he was thinking too much but still, something about Henrik was definitely strange, and it was getting worse lately. He obviously had tried to think about multiple possibilities for Henrik’s behaviour towards him and finally decided that he, himself, was the only crazy one, Henrik was kind and flirtatious with almost everybody on earth, not only with him, it was just his nature._

_He’d told no one about how sad he’d been since Skam had ended. He really was missing all the good and even the hard times he’d had for three years. The best was yet to come, of course, but still he felt quite empty, he was missing something but didn’t really know what exactly. Or maybe did he know…He just didn’t want to think too highly about it._

_Tarjei just wanted to have a good time with a good friend, so despite his bad mood he couldn’t help but smile wide when Henrik replied “What about tonight?” a few minutes later only._

 

Tarjei feels nervous, he got home pretty late and has to clean the basement where his bedroom is, before his friend arrival. And he is feeling stupid too, because he usually doesn’t care about details, except when he has a _girl_ friend over because he knows that girls like clean and rose-smelled places.

He almost changes his skinny jeans for something more comfortable and casual but decides that he’s to be a little presentable, welcoming his friend in old sweatpants may not be the best idea. So he keeps his skinny jeans and warm jumper and waits until the buzzing of his phone echoes in the peaceful basement.

Tarjei get up from the couch where he was just siting and biting his nails to take his phone which is laying on his bed. He almost pales when he reads “I’m a little early, just bought kebabs” and it takes him a few seconds to recover before he starts to run upstairs.

“Hey, took you quite long, what were you doing?” asks Henrik with a playful smile.

“Just jerking off.” Tarjei replies with a shrug, making Henrik laugh and his hears love that song.

“I’m not gonna shake your hand then, what would you say if I’d give you a hug instead?”

“I’d prefer if you just give me my kebab, I’m fucking hungry.”

“It’s what usually happens after a good orgasm, guess I came at the right time.” Henrik winks poorly but it doesn’t prevent Tarjei’s heart from fluttering.  

“You did.” Tarjei smiles, “Follow me.”

As they are penetrating into Tarjei’s basement Henrik suggests for them to sit on the floor to eat their kebabs on the coffee table, which is just in front of the tv where some stupid show is running.

Henrik takes off his shoes and coat while he says,  “I love your place, you should invite me over more often.” And Tarjei wishes he could.

“Only if it means you buying me food.” He teases with a smirk.

“Anything you want.” It’s just him being himself, thought Tarjei, no need to take it too much at heart, no need to feel special. Henrik is being kind, just _friendly_.

The minutes and then the hours go fast, the kebab plus Henrik’s presence are everything Tarjei needs on this cold Friday’s night. He’s missed him so much, all his positive energy and pretty smiles, it’s a real happiness treatment.

He also has missed their smart discussions. Tarjei thinks it’s what he loves the most about Henrik, how they can talk about various serious subjects without arguing, just sharing ideas and points of view and listening to each other’s arguments. Tarjei doesn’t really have this kind of friendship with any of his friends. His friend are, for most of them, too childish, and so talking about sociology, politic or, worst, spirituality, isn’t really their cup of tea. His relationship with Henrik is special and he’d do anything for it to last forever.

“I brought weed, keen on getting high with me?” asks Henrik suddenly after they have stopped to talk about their plans for the year to come, and Tarjei agrees with a light blush on his cheeks because he’s drunk too much strong beer and Henrik’s low voice sounds really sexy after too much strong beer.

And maybe he hasn’t made the right choice because Henrik’s weed is a little too strong and he knows that alcohol plus weed aren’t a good mix on him. He quickly starts to feel dizzy and cuts out Henrik’s speech about aliens existence.

“I am not feeling good.” He groans as he leans his head back on the couch behind him.

“Told you to stop after the first blunt.” Henrik says and Tarjei watches him in awe as he pulls colourful packs out of his bag. “You just need to eat, I’ve candies and more chips if you want to.”

“Does your bag is a fucking food safe or what?” Tarjei jokes before he takes a handful of gummy candies into one packet, shoving them all into his mouth, and gosh they never have tasted as good as they do now.

They taste so good that he almost eat all the packet in a few seconds and without letting Henrik have some.

He turns around to excuse himself but instead he gasps because it’s happening again; the stare, hypnotic, penetrating but soft at the same time, sparks filling Henrik’s blue eyes.

“Want some?” He asks awkwardly and it’s a stupid question because it’s Henrik’s own candies and the packet is laying on the table before them so if he wants to have some he can just take it. Tarjei blushes again and lowers his head.

“Give me a red one.” Henrik replies before opening his mouth, apparently waiting for Tarjei to feed him. Tarjei hesitates at first, then Henrik raises his eyebrows like he’s challenging him to do it and it’s all it takes to Tarjei to make a move.

He grabs a tiny red gummy bear and guides his fingers towards Henrik’s lips.

“Well, take it.” He whispers, fingers hanging in the air and eyes shifting between Henrik’s blue pearls and his wide open mouth. Henrik chuckles before leaning over and, without breaking the eye contact, takes the candy between his full lips, sucking slightly on Tarjei’s fingers on his way back. And ok, if Henrik wants to play, Tarjei is more than willing to take part in his game.

With liquid courage running into his blood he smirks and stares too, takes another gummy to feed Henrik again, but this time he doesn’t remove his fingers, he dares to keep them on Henrik’s lower thick lip.

Henrik waits, smiling softly as Tarjei starts stroking the chapped skin there with his index and middle fingers. He know that he’s looking stupid, with his own mouth hanging open, glazed-eyes and trembling fingers. He couldn’t even explain himself if Henrik would ask him about his weird behaviour and his true intentions behind it. He’s just fucking high and Henrik seems to be the most beautiful thing to look at right now.

It’s risky, but not forbidden and that’s all Tarjei cares about. Henrik could lean back, could ask him to stop and he would, but as he does and says nothing, Tarjei just keeps touching, pulling at Henrik lip until he can see his white teeth and feel the wet of his warm saliva. He’s too high.

He definitively is too high because he can’t stop staring. He can’t stop thinking about Henrik’s mouth, about Henrik’s lips, about Henrik’s tongue, everything is about him, and Tarjei can’t believe he’s going crazy about such a tiny detail of another human’s body while he wasn’t even turned on by the pretty brunette who danced for him and sucked his fingers playfully during a weird party, last week.

What makes Tarjei wake up from his daydreaming (or dark fantasies) is Henrik’s bite on his nails, then his hoarse voice that says, “I hate the white ones.” And Tarjei chuckles before he asks, “What about the yellow?” and takes a yellow bear into the almost empty packet to put it between his lips and teeth, hoping that Henrik would take the hint.

They keep staring at each other for a long minute, making Tarjei feel more and more embarrassed as the seconds pass because Henrik does nothing but fixe him with the same unwavering and intimate stare he always gives him when he thinks Tarjei is oblivious.

Not only oblivious about the stares but also about Henrik soft touches outside of cameras, about the hiding deepness of his drunk texts which Henrik always beg him to forget the day after, about the pain they’ve shared when they’d to separate their road to start another one. That’s what Henrik thinks but Tarjei is aware about everything.

He always has chosen to not open the subject of the texts though, has preferred to try to forget them, forget Henrik's behaviour, and whatever they’ve had past these months.

When Henrik finally decides to come closer to him Tarjei holds his breath until he can feel Henrik’s nose brushes his own, until he can feel his warm breath on his face and his eyes on his lips.

He’s missed it, missed this kind of proximity between them and despite the awkwardness that would surely follow after it Tarjei keeps staring at Henrik’s long eyelashes, keeps wishing for Henrik to steal the gummy between his lips and why not a kiss, even a little one, just a peck, something cute and fast that could remind Tarjei of the good times.

But Henrik does not. He leans a little closer, turns his head to the side until he can easily take the candy from Tarjei’s mouth and teeth, and all that without touching his lips. And Tarjei is even more disappointed to discover that he’s left the other half to him.

Henrik has bite the gummy instead of taking it entirely. Is it possible for Henrik to be disgusted by him?

Of course, Tarjei has been delusional. How could has he thought that Henrik would have put his tongue inside his mouth to eat a fucking candy?

“What do you think? I kind of like the yellow ones.” Henrik says nonchalantly, as if the atmosphere in the room isn’t heavy.

Tarjei nods and licks his dry lips, watching Henrik’s dilated pupils follow the movement of his tongue. And despite his foggy brain it's right at this moment that he understands why they usually never meet together alone, why Henrik has always found shitty excuses when he was in a relationship to not see him, why Tarjei has been feeling depressed and empty lately. He knows what he’s been missing, and it isn’t really the skam’s crew, nor the filming, nor the attention he’s got with it. He’s not missed his character Isak, not the lover of his character, Even, either. He’s been missing Henrik.

“You should go, I’m tired and feel like I’m gonna threw up any minutes.” Tarjei breathes, breaking their eye contact as he tries to stand up to sit on the couch behind him. Henrik grabs his calf to help him keep his balance and Tarjei doesn’t dare to look at him again, he just lays on the sofa and turns his back to Henrik before grumbling,

“I’m sorry it wasn’t fun… But thanks for coming.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for me to leave? I can stay, I have no plans.”

Tarjei’s head is actually full of plans for Henrik and that exactly why he has to force him to leave, even if it means he has to be rude.

“I won’t die Henrik, just go.”

“Ok.” Henrik whispers and Tarjei can hear him grab his things and put on his shoes and coat before walking closer to him again.

“Take care.” He says near his ear, pressing his shoulder between his fingers, “let’s do it again soon.” And Tarjei doesn’t find the strength to reply, he just nods and almost gasps when he feels Henrik’s warm hand leave his body.

That night he can’t sleep, can’t stop thinking. He wishes and almost prays it was just the weed and alcohol’s fault. But when he wakes up the morning after, he groans because it hasn’t disappeared; the lust, the craving. It’s still here, intact, and as strong as ever.


	2. I can’t stop staring at you

_Henrik hadn’t wanted to go there at first, because he knew that he was going to be there and because he knew it would be awkward again. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d wished for things to be more easy, for Tarjei to be less tense around him, and for them to be in good terms, quite simply. He knew he did something wrong but couldn’t guess what. Sometimes he was just clumsy and stupid and he was sure he’d said some dumb shit to Tarjei when he was drunk and that that’s why the younger boy couldn’t watch him in the eyes anymore._

_He wondered almost every night if Tarjei had took seriously all of his drunk texts and if he did, what he was actually thinking of Henrik’s fucked up brain. But Tarjei had never said anything, never had replied to any of his crazy texts and Henrik didn’t know if he should be thankful or frustrated about it. He couldn’t guess what was happening in Tarjei’s head whenever they were together and it was so exasperating that he just had to stare at him for hours to try to understand him. But Tarjei was a mystery, he always seemed superficial, unstable, and he didn’t know what to think about him. Or maybe he was too young and Henrik just too analytical._

_Henrik didn’t know what to do anymore, if he should keep playing with Tarjei and, worst, his own heart, or if he should give up and try to stop all the unreal thoughts that tended to cross his mind too often._

_Henrik hadn’t wanted to go there at first but in the end he did, because he did no longer understand himself, couldn’t recognize himself and he had to know what was happening to him, to them._

Henrik has seen him as soon as he’s arrived at the birthday party and he wishes he didn’t. He’s tried to take it well, to not start to ask himself too many questions in hope to not ruin his night but he’s obviously failed.

He’s failed because he is fuming alone in a corner of the room after he’s drunk too much glass of cheap vine, still watching him.

He’s pretty tonight, Henrik decides, with his oversized white t-shirt and tight black jeans, dancing like he doesn’t give a shit about what the others around him are thinking. Henrik wants to come behind him, wants to grab him by the waist and whisper to him, no, beg for him to stop doing that thing with his hips but he can’t do that.

Instead he keeps his eyes on him, on his hands which are running through his dark blond curls from time to time, on his lips which are stretched into a smile, and to his ass that is moving too much for his own good.

Tarjei has come to him when he’s been chatting with his ex and Henrik has made a mistake, again. He’s thought it could be a good idea to feign his true feelings by grabbing his ex-girlfriend by the waist to greet Tarjei but he’s been wrong.

“It’s a small world” has said Tarjei with a smirk, his green irises fixed on Henrik’s big hand which has been on the blonde’s little hip and the older boy hasn’t known what to reply. Tarjei has left quickly after a short kiss on Lea’s cheek, leaving Henrik dumbfounded and lost.

Tarjei must surely has believed the wrong thing and now Henrik can’t blame him for his behaviour. He can only blame himself when he sees Tarjei dance with a pretty brunette, when he watches them touch each other and almost kiss in the middle of the room.

“You should go talk to him.” Lea says as she sits beside him on the couch.

“Shouldn’t you be jealous and trying to take my heart back instead?” Henrik replies coldly before excusing himself with his hands over his eyes. “Sorry, I’m such an asshole.”

“I agree, maybe that’s better for you to not go talk to him tonight, you’re right. But you should try later, when you’ll be in a brighter mood, you know. And stop staring, you know he hates that.” And no, he doesn’t know and honestly doesn’t care.

Henrik sighs when Lea gets up to join her own friends, and he’s just thinking about leaving too when Tarjei passes before him with a guy who Henrik doesn’t know, _hand in hand_. It isn’t weird, thinks Henrik, boys can hold hands without it meaning anything, but Tarjei is different. Tarjei never hold someone’s hand, and Henrik has to know why tonight is different from the others.

He watches the two boys walking towards the bar together, laughing and smiling, and something in him changes. He can’t put a word on the strange sensation that is traveling his body but he can tell it isn’t pleasant at all. And the worst is yet to come, unfortunately.

Tonight Tarjei is handsome and wild. Henrik thinks he is having hallucinations when he sees Tarjei whispering something into the guy’s ear while one of his hands wanders his back until it finds the back pocket of his jeans. Tarjei is touching the boy’s ass and Henrik is bitter and disgusted.

Henrik has nothing at all of this brown-haired guy and there is no chance Tarjei will ever like him this way.

He starts wondering how many others boys Tarjei has kissed, if he’s let them touch him like Henrik has wanted to do for months and, worst, if he’s slept with one of them. Awful questions and images are forming in his head and he wishes he’s drunk more to forget about Tarjei and his lovers.

“Come home with me?” asks Lea with pleading eyes and she knows he can’t resist her when she’s that cute.

“You know it’s not a good idea.” He starts, turning his head again towards Tarjei and, yes, maybe passing the night with his ex-girlfriend could be a good plan after all, because Tarjei will definitively not passing his own alone.

He’s his tongue into the other guy throat, his hands around his neck and it looks like he absolutely loves what he’s doing. Henrik can’t remember a single time where Tarjei has kissed him like this and he is feeling so much jealousy that he thinks he is going to explode right here, into this shitty party.

He wants to stand up and beat the tanned boy up, because his dirty hands shouldn’t been touching Tarjei hips that’s way, like he's meaning more to Tarjei than Henrik has ever did, like he’s owning him while Tarjei belongs to no one.

Henrik is hurt and upset, he’s hurt because it means he isn’t good enough for Tarjei and upset because he’s thought he could have a chance with him. How could he’s been so dumb and naïve? Did he has so much self-esteem that he thought Tarjei would ever want him? Especially after all the shit he did for months, obviously breaking the younger boy’s heart a million time by avoiding him.

He is devastated but he keeps staring, keeps watching their lips dance together, their fingers brush against skin and their hands touch pretty curves. Their bodies are getting closer and closer and he is thinking that, maybe, he could have been in the guy’s shoes tonight if he’s acted differently in the past. But now Tarjei hates him too much to let him have a taste of his lips, a glimpse of what he can do behind closed doors.

If Tarjei has let him he would have do better than this clumsy brown haired boy who is too eager to get into Tarjei’s pants. He would have kissed him for hours, started with his lips, then his nose, his jaw, his neck, his collarbones, his chest that his oversized t-shirt is letting be seen.

He wouldn’t have touched his ass so fast, with so much ardour, he would have stroked his rosy cheeks, his long neck, before pulling gently at his soft blonde locks. Henrik would have been gentle, sweet and caring, he would have been everything Tarjei hates. They aren’t meant for each other, so why can’t Henrik stop hurting himself?

When Tarjei let the guy kiss his neck, Henrik let Lea touch his hair and nuzzle his neck and he hopes that Tarjei is going to open his eyes and see. See that he’s going to have fun tonight too and that he doesn’t care about him.

He doesn’t move nor flinch when Lea’s hand strokes his thigh, when her red lips kiss his jaw. He doesn’t when Tarjei finally stares back at him either and he hopes the darkness into Tarjei usual bright eyes is due of anger and not of lust. Henrik wishes Tarjei can feel what he’s been feeling for hours; pain, frustration, and envy.

Tarjei stares too but seems unmoved, clearly still enjoying the guy’s lips on his neck judging by the flush on his cheeks and his little gasps. Henrik doesn’t break their eye-contact, doesn’t close his eyes even though he’s almost breaking down. He still chooses to get lost in Tarjei’s green paradise that are his eyes, still prefers to enjoy his usually soft face getting deformed by pleasure because it will be the only time he’ll witness it.

His ex-girlfriend’s hand which is dangerously getting closer to his crotch makes Tarjei smirk and wink at him and Henrik feels anger rise in him.

He can’t watch more of Tarjei getting dirtied by this boy, can’t stand his defeat anymore. So when Tarjei rubs the stranger’s nose with his own, the same way Henrik has done to him for months he looks away. It’s _their_ thing, it has always been a cute gesture between them and Tarjei has decided to ruin it with some fuckboy just to piss him off.

Tarjei is proud, Henrik can see it while he looks at him a last time before standing up. He knows he’s won, knows how much he’s affected Henrik with his little show. He could have stopped there, he could have been satisfied enough but he hasn’t.

He kisses the boy hard one last time anyway, with his doe eyes on Henrik, admiring his work, admiring how much he’s hurt him because Henrik can’t hide how upset he is. “Let’s leave.” He says to Lea, grabbing her tiny hand into his.

The morning after when Henrik opens his eyes, and a few seconds later, his phone, he finds a text from Tarjei, or rather a link that is sending him on a web page where it's writing;  “6 Reasons You Should Never Sleep With Your Ex”, and Henrik smiles because there’s still hope after all.


	3. Vacillate

_Henrik hadn’t expected Tarjei to call him on a Tuesday, at 4AM, sad and drunk. In fact he hadn’t expected a call from him at all, especially after the little weird confrontation they’d had two weeks ago… It’d been stupid and Henrik was still feeling ashamed about it, but Tarjei, on other hand, seemed to have forgotten everything, or maybe did he prefer to pretend nothing’d happened, like he always did._

_When he’d seen Tarjei’s name on the screen of his phone his heart had missed a beat, he’d feel confused and had almost refused his call because being around Tarjei was too hard lately. He knew he couldn’t control his words and moves anymore and it was fucking frightening._

_Henrik was captivated by the younger boy, entranced by his pretty green eyes and uncommon shaped lips, by his lean body and soft skin, and more than everything, he was completely fascinated by Tarjei’s personality. As complicated as it was._

_Tarjei was mysterious and seemed so hard to satisfy that Henrik had always felt like he’d to give everything he had to please him, to try to make more room for himself inside of Tarjei’s heart. Nothing had never seemed enough, though. Tarjei was Tarjei and nothing that Henrik embodied was enough._

_And Henrik being Henrik had, of course, hated himself for having thought about refusing Tarjei’s call while the younger boy had seemed so lost and in despair behind the phone line._

Henrik has just come home from a family trip when Tarjei decides that crashing at his place is the best option he has.

“’Promise, I’ll be quiet.” he murmurs, before tripping on Henrik’s suitcase which is laying on the floor. He makes so much noise while trying to avoid falling that Henrik thinks his roommate is going to wake up and worry enough to come check into his room, but fortunately he doesn’t.

“Sorry!” Tarjei whispers, leaning over to pick the book he’s knock over from Henrik’s desk. Henrik can’t prevent a small laugh from escaping his lips when he watches Tarjei move with difficulty and almost trip again.

Walking towards Tarjei he says, as he put his hand on his lower back, “Lay down on the bed, sleep a little.” Tarjei giggles but it doesn’t sound sincere, “I can’t sleep, that’s why I’m here.”

“Do you have some trouble?” Henrik asks, confused, because Tarjei isn’t really the kind of guy to show his turmoil, nor his states of weakness.

“Maybe.” Is all Tarjei replies before throwing himself on Henrik, his embrace almost painful for Henrik who can’t breathe well with Tarjei’s strong arms squeezing his torso.

“What would Even do in this situation?” Tarjei mumbles into the crook of his neck and Henrik doesn’t know what to say, even though he has an answer.

He obviously knows what Even would do to make Isak smile and laugh again, what a boy in love would do to make his boyfriend feel better, but he isn’t Even and Tarjei is not Isak.

“You’re drunk.” He says regretfully, while in his head the only words that echo are _“he would hold Isak, kiss him, and soothe him to sleep.”_

“Are you back with her? Is it why you won’t touching me? Are you back being a coward?” growls Tarjei, his eyes so dark and wet that Henrik thinks he is going to cry. Tarjei never cries, not in front of someone.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what.” Tarjei’s hands are still tightly wrapped around his waist and his pretty face so close that all he can see and smell is _him_. He wonders how Tarjei can be even more handsome than the last time he saw him. When did his hair become so long and curly again? Did his cheeks and lips have ever been that pink before?

“I drank disgusting minty liquor for you to still want to kiss me.” Tarjei says, grinning, and leaving Henrik panting and speechless.

“You look like a fish. Stop gasping.” Tarjei looks completely out of mind tonight, sometimes sad and ready to cry, sometimes joyful and laughing with stars in eyes.

It’s only when Tarjei brings his cold hands on the base of his neck that Henrik notices that the younger boy is actually freezing. He suddenly remembers having seen the rain fall outside the train’s window for hours during the way back home and he can’t believe he didn’t realize sooner how much in a bad state Tarjei actually looked when he’s arrived.

His wet clothes are sticking on his body, which is shaking from cold, and his hair are curly because Tarjei is fucking soaked.

“Don’t force me to trigger a reaction from you.” Tarjei whispers suddenly, most likely not aware of how much guilt Henrik is feeling at the moment. “I’m going to give you dry clothes, sorry I didn’t notice.”

But Henrik is unable to move, Tarjei has gained too much muscle and strength lately and he is making sure to use it to keep Henrik’s body in place when he replies, “You know what I want you to give me, and it’s not clothes.”

Henrik isn’t the kind of boy to lose his temper easily but tonight Tarjei is too pushy, he’s acting weird, and after so much months of restrained actions he can feel all of the barriers he’s built slowly getting destroyed.

Sighing, Henrik grabs Tarjei’s wrists and, as he tries to release himself from his grip, demands harshly, “Stop acting like a child.”

“Stop acting like a pussy. What’s happened to the man who used to send me desperate texts, huh? Did fucking her again was enough for you to forget about me all over again?” Pain is all Henrik can see on Tarjei’s pretty face and it’s too hard to bear.

“I won’t do anything because you’re fucking wasted and you don’t know what you are saying right now.” Henrik answers and Tarjei scoffs at it. “You know I don’t need to be drunk to want it.”

Henrik can’t trust him, Tarjei must has had a bad night and he’s just trying to find some comfort somewhere, he isn’t sincere, he can’t be sincere.

“What do you want?” Henrik finally asks, very much aware of what Tarjei is going to say.

“Can I kiss you?” breathes Tarjei, wet eyes fixed on his lips, and how Henrik can refuse it ? Despite the lump in his throat and the alarm ringing into his head Henrik nods.

Henrik's previous thoughts are confirmed as soon as he feels Tarjei’s lips barely touch the corner of his mouth; Tarjei isn’t himself tonight. His hands are still cold as they travel from his neck to his cheeks where he starts stroking gently the skin there, with his thumbs. Henrik feels Tarjei’s hot breath getting closer to his mouth and he swallows before closing his eyes, waiting for Tarjei to give him a kiss, a real one.

Seconds pass and nothing happens, the air in the room is thick, stifling, and Henrik wonders for a short time if he isn’t just dreaming.

“I miss you.” He hears Tarjei whisper as he feels his fingers slide through his hair, pulling at it gently. “I miss you so much and it’s like you don’t see it.”

Tarjei sounds so sad and weak that Henrik can’t resist any longer, can’t hold back his arms to wrap themselves around Tarjei anymore.

Hearing Tarjei sighing in relief, as if Henrik has just pulled a big weigh off his shoulders, fills his chest with warmth. Is it really possible to satisfy Tarjei with so little affection? Is Henrik enough for him tonight? Will he be in the future, too?

Wrapping his hands around Tarjei’s neck, Henrik presses their foreheads together before admitting, “I miss you, too.”, and Tarjei smiles against his cheek, then leaves a short kiss there. Henrik can feel Tarjei’s hesitation, is able to guess that the younger boy doesn’t know if he has the right to push things further, so Henrik decides that giving him little help is the less he can do.

“We shouldn’t, but I can’t resist you.” Henrik confesses, then presses his lips against Tarjei's mouth and it’s like being in heaven, feeling safe again. And even though they’ve never really officially kissed before, it feels natural and right. It’s like they’ve kissed for years, knowing perfectly what the other likes.

The kiss is gentle and starts out sweet, but Tarjei becomes more eager quickly and deepens the kiss by tilting his head to the right, licking Henrik’s thick lips teasingly. Shivers travel all over his body when his tongue meets Tarjei’s soft one, and he knows that no word is strong enough to describe how good he’s feeling with Tarjei so close to him.

Their hands are curious, wandering a little too much, yet Henrik holds back, doesn’t want to be seen as someone impatient, like all Tarjei’s previous lovers looked like. Touching the soft skin of Tarjei’s nape and licking into the younger boy’s minty, hot mouth is more than enough for now. Things couldn’t be better than being surrounded by Tarjei like that.

Tarjei is insatiable, however. He’s drunk and young, how can Henrik blame him for wanting more than a desperate and sweet kiss?

But he’s human too, so when he feels Tarjei’s fingers slip under his t-shirt to stroke and scratch at his back he can’t stay still and quiet. He groans loudly between Tarjei’s parted lips, and somehow the forcefulness of his grunt makes him go out of his trance, preventing him from pressing Tarjei against the wall of his bedroom.

He was getting hot and bothered and there is no doubt that Tarjei can feel it against his hips now. They have to stop.

“We shouldn’t do that.” He says again, out of breath, regretting it as soon as the words leave his lips. His eyes now focused on Tarjei face, he can see how much the younger boy has been affected by the kiss; his mouth is scarlet, puffy and shining, slightly open and inviting, his eyes heavy and his cheeks as red as a fucking rose. He’s so beautiful, so attractive that Henrik wants to eat his face again. So he does it.

He throws himself on him again, forgetting about the piercing alarm inside his head, because Tarjei is right there, with him, and for him only.

How can he miss the opportunity to kiss and touch him? He doesn’t want to think about tomorrow, nor about the future, it’s just them for now, alone in a warm and dark bedroom.

Henrik latches onto him and kisses Tarjei as if his life is depending on it. One hand around his back, the other against the nape of his neck, keeping him close, so close that he can feel all of Tarjei shape and curves.

Henrik is weak, can’t prevent his hands from wandering across the younger boy body, from his neck to his broad shoulders, until they reach his waist, then his narrow hips, where they stay still to bring Tarjei even closer.

Breathing is difficult, the only source of oxygen being limited to Tarjei's gasps of pleasure that he’s leaving inside his mouth, and Henrik is forced to pull back rapidly, not without regret.

“Let me sleep with you.” Tarjei almost begs with pleading eyes. Henrik wants to argue, knows that the best thing to do is to take his keys and drive Tarjei back to his house but he’s tired to reject the young boy.

“I’m warning you,” Henrik starts, smirking, “I snore.” Tarjei laughs at that and suddenly the air into the dark room is lighter and Henrik’s heart is full. Full of happiness to have Tarjei to himself tonight, as selfish as it sounds.  

“I know that. You used to always fall asleep between the takes and everybody still remembers the awful sounds you made.” Tarjei says. He sighs and takes off his wet t-shirt before adding, “Who'd know at first glance that a frail boy like you could snore like an ogre.” Henrik snorts at this comment, “You’re being mean,” and goes to his wardrobe to take some dry and warm clothes for Tarjei.

Tarjei is naked when Henrik turns around to give him a t-shirt and a sweatpants and the blond doesn’t seem to find it abnormal because he’s smiling and busy hanging his wet clothes on the chair by the desk.

“Dress yourself, you’re going to catch a cold.” Henrik worries as he offers the outfit to Tarjei who looks puzzled.

“You’re cute.” He says, before accepting Henrik’s clothes and turning his back to him to dress himself. And Henrik watches, stares at Tarjei’s long back, at the prominent spine that stretches each time that the young boy moves. His eyes wander lower, until they lay on the small of his back, then on his buttocks which are round and smooth and so appealing that Henrik salivates at the sight. 

The show ends fast, though, and Henrik tries to act cool when Tarjei turns around, fully clothed and cute into his clothes. Everything always fits him so good, Henrik is not surprised. Tarjei is handsome and has a great figure, he could wear a trash bag and still look beautiful.

“On which side do you sleep?” He asks, and strangely it makes Henrik’s heart clench.

“On the left.” He replies with a smile, and Tarjei nods before sliding into the sheets, making himself comfortable into the soft fabric. In front of this pleasing and adorable scene, Henrik feels himself fall deeper, feels warm inside and he secretly prays for Tarjei to crash at his place more often.

The shape of Tarjei’s body tangled in the sheets makes the bed looks more inviting than ever. Henrik is quick to undress himself, leaving only his t-shirt and boxer on, before he starts to walk, his eyes focused on the soft pile of curls that is spreading on the pillow.

It’s already hot under the sheets when Henrik finally lies down after this long and tiring day. With his back turned to Henrik, Tarjei is silent and still. His breathing is steady and Henrik thinks that the younger boy has certainly fallen asleep. He feels relieved knowing that Tarjei is now relaxed enough to let himself go, that maybe the sadness he has noticed into his eyes tonight isn’t too serious.

Still, Henrik is a little disappointed too, he would have liked to talk to him a little more, cuddle him too. Just holding him would have been enough, yet he wouldn’t take the risk to offend Tarjei by touching him in his sleep. It’s enough because Tarjei is right here, beside him, only a few inches from him. Henrik can feel the heat emanating from his body, his own nostrils getting filled with Tarjei’s scent. Citrus fruits, a little bit of musk too, a scent as soft as strong, a scent which defines Tarjei so well.

“Cuddle me.” Tarjei suddenly groans, breaking the silence of the room and almost making Henrik startle. “And close this damn light.”

Light off, Henrik goes to wrap one arms around Tarjei’s waist, his hand flat on his stomach.

“It’s how you like it?” Henrik asks, unsure, feeling clumsy as always, but Tarjei nods.

“Come closer. I’m cold.” And even though Henrik knows that Tarjei is actually not cold at all  (at least not anymore), he can’t refuse it. So he does come closer, presses as much as he can of his body against his, then buries his face into Tarjei’s hair, breathes him in. And that’s all he needs.

Tarjei is tall and muscular, has nothing of these girls that Henrik has hold the same way at some point before, yet Henrik loves this, loves to touch Tarjei’s hard belly and flat chest. It’s different, but in a good way. 

“Are you going to tell me why you were so sad a bit earlier?” asks Henrik gently. Tarjei squirms a little, tries to turn around to face Henrik who releases his hold on him.

Finally facing him, Tarjei beams as he whispers, “I was just missing you”, but there is still this sorrow in his eyes that makes Henrik says, “Liar”, makes him lean forwards and kiss him again, softly, with one hand pressed against Tarjei’s hot cheek. If that’s really what Tarjei wants, some kisses, Henrik is ready to give him loads of them. It doesn’t matter if it’s right or wrong, doesn’t matter if his heart hurts at the end, as long as Tarjei is happy, as long as he can see his eyes crinkle from smiling.

“I’ll leave early in the morning, don’t worry,” Tarjei starts, hand moving up to stroke Henrik’s tousled hair, “But I want you to stop chicken out,” he continues, his nose now brushing against Henrik’s one, “I want you to come after me, if you really want it, just come.”

The problem, however, is that Henrik doesn’t really know what Tarjei means by “ _it_ ”. Henrik is still confused about his feelings, about what he truly wants from Tarjei. He doesn’t really knows where the lust he has for his friend comes, whether it’s from simple sexual desire and curiosity, or from genuine feelings. He knows for sure he really likes Tarjei, has liked him since the start, but is it as strong as love can be? Henrik is hesitant, and it’s what he hates the most, not knowing what to do, staying in the indistinct path.

He’s afraid, too. What if they launch into a dangerous adventure? Is putting their friendship in jeopardy really worth it? 

Tarjei’s smile fades slowly with Henrik’s silence and it makes him stop his harmful thoughts about them.

“Ok.” Is everything Henrik replies to him before he kisses his sad pout away. Tarjei still taste like mint and liquor but Henrik doesn’t mind. He just brings Tarjei closer, press all of his body on his and tries to ignore the hard-on crushed against his groin.

The kiss is deep and dirty and Henrik knows where those kind of kisses lead to, so he reluctantly let go of Tarjei’s wet lips to ask, “Don’t leave.”

Tarjei looks disappointed, he frowns, waiting for Henrik to clarify his remarks.

“Later, don’t leave. Stay as long as you want.”

Henrik knows he’s opening a door by saying that, tries to tell Tarjei that it’s ok if his friend, and also roommate, meets him in the morning, that he doesn’t mind people’s judgement. He’s free to do what he really wants now. And it’s good for him, somehow, to ease off the pressure he’s had for months, to do things for himself, without guilt. 

The younger boy stays silent, his eyelids heavy and his mouth slightly open, ready to fall asleep. He’s endearing and Henrik feels something emerging in his heart, something which is not foreign to him. It’s very enjoyable and, despite the fear hided somewhere in a corner of his brain, he wishes for it to last.

He wishes for this kind of night to happen more often as he drifts into sleep, with Tarjei between his arms, feeling content, filled with happiness and love.


	4. Dubious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope you still like this :)

_Tarjei couldn’t believe he’d been so desperate to the point of going to whine at Henrik’s place for some kisses. How could he have thought that acting like a spoiled brat was a good idea?_

_He’d felt ashamed as soon as he’d opened his eyes, slowly but surely remembering the night before while Henrik’s body had been pressed against his, an arm curled around his waist. He had a headache and felt nauseous, couldn’t bear the weight of Henrik on his side, the strong smell of his perfume, the hot breath on the skin of his nape._

_And he couldn’t understand anything._

_He couldn’t understand why all of what he’d dreamed of had suddenly seemed so disappointing. He’d thought that it would be different with Henrik, that maybe he could have feel something more than just pure sexual desire, but he’d been wrong._

_Tarjei couldn’t love anybody. It was just flesh, an urge to satisfy, and it wouldn’t change, never. There had been too much people, too much meaningless nights, but now he was bored, tired, and Henrik didn’t have to put up with his own problems. Henrik didn’t have to suffer vainly by being used, Tarjei just couldn’t let his crazy fantasies ruin everything between them. He couldn’t just show up at Henrik’s place, drunk and stupid, and asking for kisses or sex._

_It wasn’t that easy, not anymore. Not when you were a famous actor and have to be attentive with your image, and especially not when you were a grown, smart man._

_And although there had been moments where he’d still had hope in the past, it was now over._

_It was over because he didn’t stay. He’d left as fast as possible before the sunrise, with his creased clothes on and his heart broken. And there was no chance for Henrik to forgive him._

_When he’d woke up later that day though, he was still missing him, and that why he'd sent him shitty excuses to explain his sudden departure . He’d lied, obviously, and he was sure he was going to ruin everything but Henrik was an addiction._

_He was addicted and screwed-up._

It’s late and Tarjei is bored when he thinks that checking his old Instagram account is a good idea. At first it is indeed, funny photos from his old classmates, ex ugly girls who turned pretty with age, sexy models, cool pictures, but it turns boring quickly and except some weird videos and others uninteresting things there’s nothing to enjoy.

He gets a knot in the pit of his stomach while he remembers the real reason behind the log-on on his account. He’s hesitating, knows it’s wrong and weird, and that he should do better than spy on Henrik’s Instagram.

Tarjei shakes his head and sighs before typing the tall blond boy’s name in the search bar. There is nothing really entertaining on his account, except for some selfies Henrik has of himself where he’s looking really good and of which Tarjei can’t take his eyes off for a few seconds. It’s ridiculous but he’s happy to see his own face in the middle of other people several times, can’t help but smile when he falls on pictures of the Skam era, he's missing it.

Tarjei’s smile fades fast, however, when his eyes land on a photo of Henrik and Lea, happy and lovely together. There are a lot of pictures of them actually, all more beautiful than the other, and Tarjei feels bad for being bitter. He doesn’t dare to look at the comments, knowing perfectly what he would find, hatred or adoration from crazy people he has never really understood.

It’s just a social media, a façade, a place where you allow strangers to see and judge what you want to show and Tarjei knows he shouldn’t take it too seriously, yet he’s still hurt, and worst, jealous. He doesn’t really understand if he’s envious of their relationship, of how good they look together, or if he’s jealous of her, of her feminine face and body that Henrik must like so much, of the consideration, and maybe the love, that Henrik has for her.

He feels ashamed, feels like those childish jealous girls behind their phones and he hates it. He decides to log off, close and delete the application before throwing his phone away, somewhere on the bed where he’s actually lying on.

Henrik has been silent lately, didn’t ask for them to meet, doesn’t seem to miss Tarjei. There were only friendly messages about nothing noteworthy, and Tarjei starts to doubt once again. He starts to think about the last time they saw each other and he feels his face heating up from shame. He has been stupid, so stupid. He’s probably scared Henrik, and now the older boy must think it’s safer for him to stay far away from Tarjei.

He wants him back, wants their strong friendship back, but he doesn’t really know how to fix the current situation, how to prove to Henrik he isn’t a brat, nor a depraved. He is just lost, has never really known how to express his feelings.

Tarjei feels anxious at the thought of Henrik wanting to talk about them if they ever meet together alone, and that’s why he doesn’t really force anything to happen. It’s not a solution, however, and Tarjei has to act like the adult he is, so although the prospect of sending a text to Henrik is still terrifying now, he still takes his phone back in hand to type; “What are you doing now?” and waits, with fear in his heart.

Henrik seems busy and Tarjei can’t stop biting at his nails while he waits for his reply, reply that comes almost thirty minutes later. _“Waiting outside.”_

Tarjei stares puzzled at his phone screen and frowns, Henrik can’t be here, right? Not now, not when Tarjei is unprepared for whatever Henrik has in mind. He’s not in the mood for talking or explaining himself anymore, never really has been. His heart beat increases and there’s this lump in his throat that makes him doubt his ability to talk.

_“Aren’t you home?”_ Henrik asks and Tarjei felt bad, he can’t lie and say he isn’t home when Henrik has to clearly see the light through his window. Tarjei’s room is a mess and even though he doesn’t mind Henrik witnessing his "tidying disorder", he refuses to invite him inside. Strangely Tarjei doesn’t feel like having Henrik in his room is the best idea for now. Who knows what might cross his twisted mind in the presence of the older boy.

Putting his shoes on he sighs loudly, before grabbing a hoodie and a red scarf to not freeze to death outside, doesn’t even dare to glance at his appearance into the mirror because he’s sure he looks like shit. He’s exhausted after so much weeks of work, his face must be pallid and his eyes ringed with fatigue. Knowing that nothing could fix the mess of his fuzzy curls for now, he doesn’t waste his time but grab a beanie to hide the fact that he definitively needs a haircut soon.

Tarjei walks slowly, quietly, trying to be as discreet as possible to not catch his parents attention who are currently chatting into the living room.

Indeed, Henrik is here, waiting with his body leaned on the wall of the house and his attention focused on his phone, a small frown on his pretty face. He looks upset and Tarjei hopes he’s not the reason of his anger.

Clearing his throat to notify Henrik of his presence he walks closer to the older boy, smiling. He’s nervous when Henrik catch his eyes but it doesn’t last long as he sees his face light up.

“It’s nice to see you.” Henrik says, beaming now, as he put his phone in his pocket, and Tarjei feels immediately better. Henrik doesn’t resent him. “Yeah.”

Tarjei doesn’t move, doesn’t really knows what to say or to do, doesn’t dare to make a mistake again. It’s a little awkward, the night is cold and Tarjei shivers, tries to warm up by rubbing his arms.

Henrik laughs softly and it’s a gift to Tarjei’s ears, as cheesy as it may sound. “You’ll never change.” He wishes he could.

“It’s too late.” He replies, feeling brave enough to wink and Henrik comes closer, wrap an arm around Tarjei’s back and slip an hand into his dirty hair to press their body together into a tight hug.

“It’s never too late.” It’s what Henrik whispers against his temple before kissing the skin there. It’s sweet, Henrik is gentle and caring, and Tarjei doesn’t deserve him. Is it not too late for them either? Is it what Henrik actually meant?

His own arms wrapped around Henrik’s waist, Tarjei buries his face against his neck, breathes his masculine cologne and the smell peculiar to Henrik. A smell he loves and thinks about secretly sometimes when he touches himself. It’s odd and he’s a little ashamed about it but it’s not like someone other than himself could know about it.

“Are you less cold?” Henrik asks, sinking his fingers into Tarjei’s lock repeatedly, soothing him and causing goose bumps along his neck and spine.

“No, but it’s nice. I missed you.” Tarjei admits shyly, leaning his head backward to look into Henrik’s eyes.

Even through the night the sweet blue of Henrik eyes is noticeable, Tarjei lets his eyes roam all over his beautiful face, before settling them on his plump lips. They’re a little chapped, but Tarjei still wants to devour them. They give the best kisses and Tarjei is sure he will never experience lips better than them.

Henrik’s hand is warm when it comes to rest on his cheek and Tarjei knows. He knows what’s going to happen, and he does nothing to stop it.

Henrik’s lips press against his own and hope rises again. Fireworks sets off in his stomach, his heart starts to race and it’s like he can breathe again. It’s still possible, it’s not over, his heart is not dead, he’s able to feel things, even without being intoxicated with alcohol and it’s a relief.

Tarjei parts his lips when he feels Henrik’s hot tongue asking permission to caress his own. It’s still gentle, nothing dirty nor sexual, and Tarjei is more than satisfied, him who thought that he would never ever have that again.

It’s silent around them, except for the distant sound of cars, the sound of their breathe and wet kiss, and Tarjei feels numb. It’s good to think and worry about nothing, to live in the moment, it has always been something he could do with Henrik and he’s glad it has not changed, hopes it could stay like this forever.

Suddenly Henrik breaks the kiss, leaving Tarjei avid for more. Breathless he then asks anxiously, “Is it ok for you?”, and Tarjei nods, “It is.” It’s more than ok, it’s all Tarjei needs and he can’t believe Henrik still has doubts about it.

“Listen, I have to go, my mom’s called me.” He said bitterly and Tarjei is sure it’s not a call from his mother that Henrik has got earlier but he decides to hide his disappointment and stays silent instead.

“I want to see you soon again.” Henrik seems unsure, uneasily and Tarjei hates it. Why it has to be so weird now between them when it has always been so easy in the past? “Sure, I’ll call you.” Tarjei smiles and reluctantly lets his hands fall on his sides because Henrik suddenly seems embarrassed by their proximity.

He must be wrong though, considering Henrik’s next move.

It’s rather new for him, he’s not really used at hands holding, not in this context at least, but Henrik’s palm is wide and warm and it’s perfect, like every little things Henrik does to him.

Before placing a cigarette between his lips Henrik offers carefully, “You should come at my place on Friday.”

“Will we be alone?”

“Unfortunately no.”

And that's what Tarjei feared. He’s unsure if he should feel happy that Henrik wants to introduce him to his friends or sad to have to share him with others, like always. He should feel reassured because Henrik doesn’t seem to have questions about them to which Tarjei doesn’t have answers. He just seems to want to shower Tarjei with kisses and affection. And it should be good, safe even, but Tarjei can’t stop wondering how Henrik, a boy who can only handle tangibles situations, is able to remain impassive in a situation like this. Maybe because he’s not as moved as Tarjei is by the sweet moments they sometimes share together.

“I’ll think about it.” Tarjei says. There’s hope in Henrik’s eyes and he already knows he’ll come, no matter what. He can’t resist him.

The last kiss they exchange before Henrik walks away is mind-blowing. It’s short but intense, wet and hot, and it leaves Tarjei light-headed.

-

The party is really different from the ones he’s used to go. Everybody knows each other, play games and talk together and it’s almost too calm. There is no fight, no couples kissing in a corner, no one is dancing, everybody is just enjoying their night peacefully, except for Tarjei. Tarjei who is sulking in the sofa, alone and bored, with the loud music mixed with the cigarette smoke that almost give him a headache.

Henrik’s friends are kind but it seems like they never have really enjoyed Tarjei’s presence and he’s never really understood why. Of course at first he’s thought it could be about the age difference, but except for Tarjei, it doesn’t seem to be a problem for them to have fun with the others younger people around them.

Tarjei wonders why Henrik has proposed him to come if it’s for ignoring him, leave him and his toxics thoughts alone.

When Tarjei has arrived, the place was already crowed, Henrik has gave him a little peck on the cheek and welcomed him inside with a warm smile but that was all. After that Tarjei hasn’t really known what to do with himself, he’s tried to do small talks with some people but it never lasted long.

He hasn’t even drank that much tonight, the alcohols being for most of them too strong, he didn’t want to end wasted and make a fool of himself. He has done it enough in the past already.

Henrik’s laugh is what finally capture Tarjei’s attention after too much minute of reverie and boredom. He’s standing close, chatting with a boy Tarjei has never seen before, and he’s, unsurprisingly, handsome.

Tarjei doesn’t really understand why he’s dressed up for a small party between friends at his place. He’s felt so ridiculous when he’s seen Henrik in his pretty striped shirt while he was wearing a simple blue jeans with an old sweatshirt.

Tarjei has salivated at the sight of the tall boy, observed the shirt hugging his torso and enhancing his slim waist and wide shoulders, his black pants tight enough to let easily guess what is underneath.

The night isn’t so bad anymore as he let his eyes travel along Henrik’s tall and skinny body, admire the shape of his thighs and his butt, the blond curls that touch the back of his nape. How bad he wishes he could play with them, tug at it as he used to do, playfully, when Henrik was Even and that he was Isak, when it was allowed and not odd to do.

He knows how much Henrik likes that, remembers the gasps he made every time Tarjei tugged a bit too hard on the soft locks. He wants to taste the skin at the back of his neck too, want to kiss that prominent bone just before the start of his spine.

Tarjei is letting his hormones control him again and he knows he shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t devour Henrik with his eyes while all of his friends are around him, maybe noticing his weird behaviour, the way he’s breathing heavier.

Henrik seems oblivious though, still immerged into the conversation with the boy, talking lively with his hands and a big smile on his glistening lips. His cheeks are red too, he looks tipsy and it gives Tarjei an idea.

Taking his phone out of his pocket he types, _“Can we meet alone?”_ and sends the message to Henrik before he starts chickening out, panic rising slowly.

His cheeks heat up when he watches Henrik checking his phone with a frown, then turning his head towards him with a puzzled expression, and it’s right at this moment that Tarjei decides to get up from the sofa to walk away from the living room.

At first he doesn’t really know where to go, if it’s safe to enter into Henrik’s bedroom without asking for his permission or if it’s better to opt for the bathroom.

There are only a few girls in the corridor leading to the bedrooms and Tarjei tries to avoid their gaze, tries to act as composed as possible as he chooses to go to the bathroom, the room which is the furthest from the group.

Safely locked up into the bathroom, he sighs as he let his head drop against the hard wood of the door.

How will Henrik manage to come inside without it looking strange? It’s too risky, will necessarily raise suspicions.

He decides to check his phone anyways and the text he’s got from Henrik right after he’s leaved the living room makes him smile, _“Why? Do you need something special?”_

Tarjei is tempted to answer _“You”_ but it makes him cringe before having sending it so he prefers to simply reply _; “Yes. You know what.”_ He can feel his heart beat fast into his chest, both from excitation and nervousness, can feel his head spin a little while he’s actually sober.

_“Doesn’t look very appealing said like that. Don’t know if it's worth taking the risk to get caught.”_ Henrik is teasing and Tarjei loves this side of him, it makes him feel brave enough to send back _; “I want to taste the wine on your tongue.”_

He can’t lie and say he isn’t flushed and embarrassed by what he’s wrote, he’s fucking sweating now, hopes Henrik won’t laugh at him. What if he’s disgusted him? Maybe Henrik wasn’t teasing him in the way Tarjei has thought. He feels shameful, humiliated and it does not look like him; the straightforward, cheeky even, boy that he’s usually in this kind of situation. Everything’s different with Henrik though, he’s insecure and clumsy, always doubting himself, doesn’t even trust his strong points. But it’s not enough to calm him.

“Open the door.” A deep voice echoes behind the door, a few minutes later, making Tarjei startled. It’s _him._

It takes him a few seconds to come back down to earth and when he does, finally turning around to unlock and open the door quietly, it’s to find the only person that matter into the noisy apartment.

Henrik smirks, put his hands on Tarjei’s shoulders to push him past the door in order to enter inside too.

“How did you-“ Tarjei starts, confused, but Henrik’s lips are suddenly on his own and he almost forgets immediately what he wanted to ask in the first place. He forgets where he’s, what has happened today, it’s just about _him_ now and it feels good. The hands cupping his cheeks are hot, his own tightly gripped at the back of Henrik’s shirt.

He wants to feel him more, moves his hands down Henrik’s long back until he hesitantly lets them rest on the top of his buttocks, pressing his fingers gently onto the soft material of his pants to draw him closer.

It’s the first time he feels him there, hard against his own hardness, and it’s overwhelming, makes him open his mouth wider to moan quietly, giving Henrik the space he needs to slid his tongue inside, and Tarjei is gone.

The subtle taste of wine on the tall boy’s soft tongue, the hand in his hair which is keeping him in place and the other one squeezing his waist hard is what makes Tarjei’s knees buckle and tightening his grip on Henrik’s ass.

He doesn’t feel embarrassed anymore, doesn’t wonder whether Henrik might like what they’re doing or not because it’s clear he does.

He doesn’t overthink either, just feel, feels Henrik’s lips leave his own to press against his jaw, then all over the side of his neck, kissing and nibbling at the thin skin there. It’s ticklish, it’s too much, causes goose bumps to erupt all over his body, and his hips to thrust forward.

Henrik’s lips are a sin whatever place they press to, Tarjei lets the older boy devour his neck, tilts his head to the side to make the job easier for him. Moans and gasps are the only things leaving his lips, his eyes are closed and he can’t believe how much aroused he is just from kisses and grinding.

He has never felt this close to coming into his pants this fast.

Tugging at his hair Henrik whispers against his ear, “You smell good”, before attacking him again, nibbling down his jaw towards his neck where he starts sucking a bruise, pressing they groin hard together at the same time, drawing a loud groan from Tarjei’s lips.

They could get caught, Tarjei isn’t even sure the door is locked, but it doesn’t stop him from stroking and kneading Henrik’s round ass through his thin pants. How he wishes they could be somewhere else, just the both of them, where he’d be authorized to slid his hands under Henrik’s pants, where he could feel his naked and hot skin under his fingers.

“Is it what you wanted?” Henrik asks, out of breath.

“It’s so much better.”

Henrik’s laugh into the crook of his neck, “I’m so drunk”, he murmurs and it makes Tarjei wonders if a sober Henrik would have done all of that, if he would have let him touch his ass and rub against his erection, if he would have kissed him like if Tarjei was all he’s ever wanted.

Doubts and disappointment start to flow into his head and he can’t hold back the words that cross his mind, “Are you sure you are? You are really hard for someone super drunk.” The tone is dry, harsh, sarcastic, the atmosphere is suddenly cold, and Tarjei doesn’t even feel bad.

He isn't even missing Henrik’s slow thrust against his hips, his breathe on his neck. He’s hurting, already picturing the texts he’ll receive tomorrow from Henrik. The texts that will say how much sorry he is for his wrong behaviour _, “I was so drunk, sorry, forget it.”_ It has always been like that, hot and cold, acquired and then lost. But this time it’s worst because it has been real, for a few minutes it has been their moans and breaths mixed together, their mouth eating each other face and their hands wandering all over their body. It hasn’t only been Tarjei fantasies, secret and well-kept in the depths of his memory, it has been real.

Henrik stays silent, looks embarrassed, with his hands now hanging by his sides. But he still keeps his eyes locked with Tarjei’s own, his eyes dark from lust, and anger maybe. It’s so hard to resist him, so hard to not just grab his red cheeks, tilt his head down to press his lips against his one more time. He looks so disheveled, from his hair to his clothes, so appealing despite his annoying attitude.

“Why are you so mean?” He asks bitterly and Tarjei doesn’t really understand what it has to do with maliciousness.

He frowns and scowls; “Mean? I only said the truth.” Tilting up his chin he adds smugly, “Why ? Are you offended ? Are you feeling guilty for being hard because of me?” And it seems to be the final straw for Henrik who snorts before pushing Tarjei against the cold wall of the bathroom again.

“Guilty? Stop saying always shit, Tarjei.” He says, his blue eyes piercing and intimidating, leaving Tarjei speechless and aroused once again.

The kiss that follows Henrik’s words is hard, full of tongue and teeth. Tarjei thinks it’s the hottest kiss they’ve given to each other, it makes his stomach twist, his palms sweat, his heart go frenzy, and his dick stiffen.

He’s feeling high, hot, and Henrik’s hand that is slowly getting down his torso to the belt of his pant does nothing to calm his excitation. Henrik is going to touch him right here, with all of his friends being in the same apartment as them, and Tarjei moans loudly at the mere thought of Henrik’s big and calloused hand on his cock, shamelessly stroking him while anyone could enter into the bathroom.

Henrik’s lips are swollen and glistening when he leans back to declare; “If I could I would-”

But he abruptly stops what he was going to say as they hear a loud knock on the door followed by a hoarse voice that almost yells; “Lea’s here.”

And Tarjei hates her, hates all the people behind this door, hates the universe. He’s not even afraid of being caught anymore. He even wishes for the door to open, for them to see in what condition they currently are, disheveled hair and clothes, bruised lips and skin. But it doesn’t happen, the door stays closed and Henrik leaves his body.

“Sorry.” Is the only thing Henrik says before fixing his hair a little bit, fucking wiping his mouth and leaving.

He’s left, he’s left him for her, one more time.

 

-

 “Stop being grumpy and enjoy.” Henrik smiles, his eyes focused on the road, his elegant profile put on display, and Tarjei can’t decide if he hates being inside Henrik’s new car or not.

“You know I hate traffic.” He sighs as he nervously bit at his nails. “You just got your licence, it’s frightening.”

“I’m hurt, Tarjei. I thought you trusted me.” Looking clearly more amused than offended, Henrik pouts a little, making Tarjei’s already fast heart beat goes even more faster.

“Wait until the end, maybe you’ll change your mind about cars and roads.” Henrik’s tone is teasing, smug.

He looks like a guy on a mission, staring at the wet tarmac with a light frown, teeth biting at his lower lips, hands griping hard on the wheel.

_His hands_. It has been the first thing Tarjei has notified from the beginning of the drive. Long skinny fingers wrapped around the black steering wheel, large palms, bony wrists moving from time to time.

Obviously he’s been flushed for a good half hour now, and Henrik’s innuendos hasn’t been helping either.

“I don’t even know the roads you are taking, it looks like we are the only one in the middle of nowhere on top of that.” He isn’t afraid, he’s just putting on a show because he knows Henrik has a soft spot for “Grumpy Tarjei”. He’s excited, can’t wait to see what Henrik has planned for him. He loves surprises, everything that comes with unexpected plans, even the negative points. It’s stimulating, and he almost can’t stay still in the car seat, his legs are shaking and adrenaline is flowing in his veins.

“It’s rather good. It’s my plan actually, being alone with you.” Henrik says nonchalantly, calmly, as if he hasn’t just set Tarjei’s body in fire.

Tarjei’s voice is raspy when he stutters, “W-what do you mean?”

“Just wait.”

And Tarjei waits, he waits silently, counts the minutes, tries to distract himself by watching the woody scenery pass before his eyes through the window. It’s raining outside, it’s only 15PM but it looks like the night will fall soon because of the dark clouds which fill the sky. It’s almost troubling, the silent into the passenger compartment except for the sound of the engine and windshield wipers, the rain falling against the sheet metal of the car.

There’s some tension in the air, and Tarjei can’t put words on the current perceptions he’s having.

When the car eventually comes off the road Tarjei isn’t more reassured. There’s absolutely nothing except pines and weeds. The sky looks still angry and there’s no way Tarjei is getting out of the car for a walk through the forest, under the pouring rain, even he if really likes Henrik he’s really not into the mood for it.

“I’m definitively not in the mood for a hike in the forest right now.” Tarjei says with a forced laugh. He’s a little disappointed by Henrik’s surprise but he tries to hide it.

Henrik’s smug smile is back as he asks nonchalantly; “When does your theater lessons start?”

“19PM”

“Good. It gives me at least two hours to kiss you.”

Tarjei is astonished at first, tends to take Henrik’s words seriously for a few seconds until his eyes lock with Henrik’s blue ones, and what he sees there leaves no doubts about Henrik’s true intentions.

“Are you kidding?”

Because he has to be kidding right now. There’s mischief in his eyes, something Tarjei knows well. Henrik is taking Tarjei for a fool, playing with him because it’s easy, because he still remember how desperate Tarjei was at the party last week.

Henrik has never been so straightforward before, except when he’s drunk, and he looks definitively sober at the moment.

Henrik sighs, his smile fading a little when he replies softly: “I’m not, I’m going to kiss you. And apart from you if you don’t want it, nobody is going to stop us this time.”

It’s in the middle of nowhere, seated into a warm and brand new car, that Henrik finally admits he wants Tarjei’s kisses as much as the younger boy want his. So many people would think it’s not romantic, that it’s all the opposite actually, but for Tarjei it’s sweet. Henrik is cute, a little odd, but adorable.

He now understands what Henrik has meant earlier and he believes he’s really going to love cars and roads if he get kisses and touches from this boy after every drive.

He can’t prevent the big smile that is taking place on his face. He sees a change in Henrik’s eyes, sees the mischief leaves to be replaced by hope, and lust maybe.

“I really want it.”

There is no hesitation in Henrik’s next movements. His large hands grabbing Tarjei’s neck, he brings their lips together softly, breathes him in and sighs contentedly before opening his mouth to caress Tarjei’s lips sensually.

Tarjei wants to moan into the kiss but he’s holding back, can’t show to Henrik how much he’s affecting him, how much a simple brush of his lips against his own makes his head spin, his heart go faster, his body go pliant.

He’s weak into his arms and he hates it, doesn’t know how to handle this new thing, those new feelings.

It’s a little weird to kiss into a car he thinks, Henrik has to bend forward and Tarjei is certain he isn’t feeling comfortable in this position. He has not place enough to move like he would like to, can’t feel Henrik’ body against him and it’s frustrating.

“Move your seat back.” Tarjei demands and it’s so difficult to hold his laugh back in front of Henrik’s puzzled face that he lets a soft chuckle escaping from his mouth.

The space is not very wide between Henrik and the steering wheel but Tarjei still tries to straddle the tall boy by putting his hands on Henrik’s shoulders to steady himself. When he’s rather comfortably seated it’s not as sexy as he’s thought it would end up; he’s too tall for the car and he has to be careful to not bang his head into the ceiling, and his legs hurt because they are strangely bent.

“Are you cold?” Henrik asks, his breath caressing Tarjei’s face due to their closeness. It's so wonderful to see him so close, to see his blue eyes twinkle, the blonde stubble above his upper lip, his freckles, his moles, scars and other imperfections that make him perfect.

“I’m not.”

“Take out your coat, you’ll have more space, you look like you are suffocating.” Henrik worries, stroking Tarjei’s right cheek with his thumb. It’s so gentle and caring that the younger boy feels his heart melt. Henrik helps him with his coat and, and as soon as he has got rid of the garment, Tarjei’s hands come up to to wrap around Henrik’s neck.

Their noses brushing together, they smile gently, staring into each other eyes. It’s quiet, peaceful, just the sound of their breathe and the pouring rain outside which hits the windows.

It’s their thing, the noses rubbing, they could do it for hours and Tarjei wouldn’t mind. It’s as soft and good as a kiss on the mouth, as relaxing as taking a long bath after a harsh day or sunbathing during summer.

It works only with him, however. Needless to say he’s tried with others, testing to see if he could feel the same emotions than with Henrik, yet it has never been the same.

Tarjei isn’t a romantic, and even though he’s had kind of reals love relationships when he was younger he doesn’t really feel the need to kiss or touch sweetly his partners when they are passing time together. It has mostly been hook-up and meaningless sex, nothing to write home about, but Tarjei likes that. Being free and independent, having fun with consensual people and knowing they aren’t going to throw a tantrum when he’ll leave in the morning to never coming back.

He can’t do that with Henrik (doesn’t really want to, in all honestly), however, and it’s exactly what is holding him back from going all way.

Tarjei is the first to initiate the kiss. Holding Henrik’s long neck with his hands, he tilts his head to kiss him deeper.

His intoxicating smell, the fruity taste of his tongue, and the fingers that are pressing on his waist make Tarjei shiver and groan loudly.

He’s almost embarrassed by the sound, feels his cheeks heating up, but Henrik seems to have loved it because the hold on the younger’s hips is tighter than ever.

Tarjei doesn’t know how long they kiss and touch, he’s lost in Henrik’s paradise, drunk of him.

When he feels big hands go up along of his back to bring him even closer to Henrik he decides that he needs more.

Henrik is well-behaved, too much maybe, and Tarjei wonders how he manages to resist touching him at specific places.

A little roll of his hips is what finally motivates Henrik to do something more, something he has never done before but which has been Tarjei’s wish for a long time already.

Tarjei breaks the kiss to gasp when Henrik’s hands are grabbing his butt, his nails sinking into the thin material of his tight jeans. Tarjei has never felt as aroused by a simple gesture before, it’s overwhelming, unsettling too.

Too much foreign emotions are flooding into his head at the moment, and he doesn’t even know how his brain is still working when his dick is clearly the most supplying organ with blood.

It has never been like that. As soon as something interesting enough to wake his dick up was happening, Tarjei didn’t feel the need to bother about emotions, feelings and others stupid synonyms. It was just pleasure, a way to relieve himself and also a way to share something good (he hoped) with another human being.

And it has always been good.

Until _him_. Until he shows him how much better it could be when your brain, your heart and your dick work together, when you feel somehow connected with the other person, when it’s not just about you and then about the other, but about the both of you, at the same time, no less, no more. Equality, sharing, giving, it’s what Henrik’s inspire him. It can’t be bad, doesn’t it?

His hands still kneading Tarjei’s round buttocks, Henrik drags his lips a last time across the younger ones before nuzzling his cheeks, leaving a tiny kiss there, then nibbles at his jaw, eliciting a whimper from Tarjei.

His grip is hard on Henrik’s nape, his nails probably marking the skin, but Henrik doesn’t mind as he continues to kiss down Tarjei’s neck, licking and sucking from time to time.

It’s too much and not enough at the same time, Tarjei wishes they could be at a better place, somewhere where he could take off his clothes and makes Henrik touch him properly. The car is too small for their tall limbs and he wonders how people can actually likes car-sex. It’s definitively out of his to-do list.

Not really knowing how to make things progress between them, how to give Henrik the green light to do more, he asks the first question that comes across his mind and the only one that hasn’t leaved his thoughts for days.

“What did you want to say? Before she came, what did you want to say to me?”

He couldn’t stop thinking about it last week, almost always imagining dirty scenarios and picturing sexy scenes into his head. Every fucking where. He has never felt as young and embarrassed as he did when he has had to hide a constant boner at home, in class, and at work.

He has felt so frustrated when he has left the party, too sad and angry to stay any longer into an apartment where he could see them talk, laugh and maybe kiss.

No need to say that when he has tried to get off that night it has ended up being a disaster, and that he’s preferred giving up. He’s fell asleep early in the morning and dreamed about his hands on Henrik’s naked ass, waking up hours later feeling nauseous and ashamed.

Stopping to bruise Tarjei’s neck, Henrik raises his head up, smirking. And Tarjei already knows he’s going to tease him.

“I wanted to say…” He starts, a brush of his lips against his own. “That if I could…” Following by a short kiss. “I would have make you taste yourself on my tongue.”

“What the fuck?”

Tarjei’s face must be priceless because Henrik can’t help but burst into laughing.

“Well sorry, I’m not really good at expressing myself politely and prettily, not as good as you at least.” He taunts, apparently proud of him judging by the smug look on his face. He’s so handsome and Tarjei can’t hate him.

“You clearly just insinuated you wanted to give me a blowjob.”

Henrik can’t stop laughing now, his sharps canine on display, and Tarjei melts.

“I did. Just like you insinuated you wanted to make out with me.”

“You must have been really drunk then. It’s good she came.” Tarjei mumbles, because he can’t believe Henrik really wanted to pleasure him with his pretty mouth when all of his friend where into the same apartment. It obviously must have been the wine’s fault.

“Don’t bring her up when we are talking about blowjobs please, it’s weird.” Henrik grimaces, his beautiful smile erased and his shoulders slouched.

Sighing, he says gently, with his hands cupping Tarjei’s face; “I am serious, and even though I was drunk it doesn’t mean I wasn’t aware of what I was doing or of what I really wanted.”

“But…” Tarjei starts. There are so many things he wants to say, so many things he wants to clear up. Are you still seeing her? Is the both of you still a thing? Do you still love her, or is it just sex? Why did you send me those texts? Were you serious? Why did you always have refused to talk about it? Why did you have regretting sending them? Were you ashamed of the truth or ashamed of your lies?

It’s finally Henrik’s deep voice that take him out of his reverie when he murmurs; “Stop overthinking. It’s ok to try new things, to be curious. Isn’t it?”

And well it’s not really what Tarjei expected Henrik to say, as weird as it seems. Curious? Does he take him for an experimental object and nothing more? Does he ever think about Tarjei’s feelings or does he just see him as a fuckboy, always ready for some good sex?

It’s dryly that he blurts; “It’s not news things for me.” And maybe it’s not the best thing to do, to act as dumb as Henrik, but Tarjei is offended and it’s impossible for him to measure his words when he’s hurt.

“I see.” Henrik’s tone is cold, his mouth pursed and his eyes everywhere except on Tarjei.

Fingers still tangled into Henrik’s blond locks, Tarjei finds himself stupid straddling Henrik’s thighs when the situation is not at all the same as it was a few minutes ago. Henrik’s face is still clouded over, his hands no longer on Tarjei’s body and the younger feels empty, cold.

Slightly lifting himself up on his knees, Tarjei tries to get back on his seat but Henrik stops him by grabbing his hips back.

“Wait-»

Tarjei's phone is suddenly ringing loudly, making both boys jump at the same time.

“Damn, guess I forgot about the phone’s existence.” Henrik laughs, breaking the tense atmosphere. “Pick up. It might be important.”

But it’s too late when Tarjei takes his phone from the seat, under his coat. It certainly must be his sister though, because he has at least fifty texts from her asking where the hell he is.

“It’s my sister, she needs my help and I’m one hour away from Oslo.” He says, slowly feeling the panic rise all over inside his body.

“Don’t worry, I can’t drive you back there fast and safely.” Henrik reassures him kindly.

Tarjei doesn’t want to leave now, it has been so good to have been cocooned by Henrik for hours, so good to have been so far from the city and his problems.

“I wish I-"  Tarjei stutters, blushing. “I wish I could stay here longer.”

His fingers on Tarjei's chin, he tilts his head up, his soft gaze plunged into his he declares; “Me too. But we have tomorrow.”

“To try new things?” Tarjei dares to tease.

Henrik smiles, caressing his cheeks sweetly, he corrects him; “To teach me things, rather.”

“Sorry, you didn’t need to know… stuffs like this.”

A quick but gentle kiss is pressed on his lips and Tarjei thinks it’s Henrik’s way to tell him he doesn’t mind his words too much.

After that,, the ride is relaxing, Henrik has put some music (Tarjei’s favourite) and the younger tries to enjoy the calmness. He gets lost in his thought as he watches the thousands of pine pass before his eyes, tries to analyse what has happened today, if Henrik is really ready for things to go further between them.

When the car finally stops in front of his sister’s apartment, Tarjei turns his head toward Henrik and, smiling, he says;

“Thanks for the ride. It was nice.”

“Do you like car’s ride now?” Henrik is smirking, his good mood back on full mode.

“I might actually. I hope I can make you like new things too.”

Henrik bursts out laughing at Tarjei’s allusions; blushing a bit he breathe; “I don’t doubt it.”

This time, Tarjei is the first to kiss him, deep and hard, holding Henrik’s head in place.

“See you.” He whispers, watching Henrik panting, his bruised and wet mouth opened and inviting.

It’s reluctantly that Tarjei get out of the car after Henrik says “Call me.”. The cold hitting his hot face is unpleasant but he’s sure it’s nothing comparing to the good dressing down his sister is going to give him.


	5. Think I Like You Best When You’re With Me And No One Else

_Call him the day after their hot escapade by car, Tarjei did, but Henrik had seemed odd, cold behind the phone line, and it hadn’t took more for Tarjei to clam up. He hadn’t called him again, nor texted him either, and Henrik did the same. It had been so weird that Tarjei had thought the beautiful afternoon they had spent together had just been a dream, something his twisted mind had made up._

_Because Henrik couldn’t be so distant after what had happened between them, not after their promise of something more._

_Could it’d been that Henrik fooled him again? Tarjei couldn’t believe that._

_Maybe fear had taken over the excitement after all, and Henrik preferred to play dead rather than to confess to Tarjei that he did not want things to go any further._

_And it was his right, to refuse. Tarjei could understand, he would obviously be hurt and disappointed but Tarjei would never do something against someone’s will. He had just wished that Henrik could be honest rather than to hide, could at least talk to him about his fears and wants. It was not rejection Tarjei feared, but silence, ignorance, his absence._

_Tarjei had a lot of flaw, and one of those was stubbornness. When he wanted something he was ready to do anything  to get it._

_So, one last time, only one last time, he was going to try again._

Days and weeks go by when Tarjei finally decides to send Henrik a text. He has tried to not think too much about it beforehand, preferred drinking two beers, and gathering his courage before sending the first thing that has crossed his clouded mind _. “I’m thinking about you.”_

After that he can’t help but read and reread his text hundred times and feeling stupid, regretting his bluntness as he watches the black screen of his phone. Henrik won’t reply because he has been ignoring him for weeks now, and there is no chance that he would appreciate to know that Tarjei is obsessed with him.

It’s been a mistake.

Tarjei could still claim he’s sent it to the wrong number, play it cool and laugh it off, but Henrik would know. He can’t hide things from him, has never could, especially when it’s about feelings and shit like that.

Burrowing his face into the cushion, he groans, why everything has to be so complicated? Why is he so stubborn and can’t give up the idea of them together in _that way._ A way where it would be natural for Tarjei to send sweet texts without causing Henrik to freak out, where it would be natural for them to meet often, to kiss, to touch, to fuck.

Why can he have anyone but him? And why is it so hard to accept he can’t have him when it’s usually so easy with the others?

It’s a boring Sunday night during holiday and he’s nothing else to do except sulking and complaining about his lot in life. He’s alone at home, the house is silent and dark and he hates it. He could have invited his friends, girls and boys to have fun with, yet he’s alone in his bedroom, laying on the unmade bed, feeling sad and empty.

The two beers he’s drank one hour ago has done nothing to calm his bad mood, so it’s with hope for a brighter mood that he lets one of hand sliding along his torso down to the belt of his jeans. If he can’t have him, he can still picturing him in his mind, fantasize about everything they could do together and that will never happen.

Opening the button of his jeans quickly and skilfully, Tarjei wastes no time before zipping down the zipper and stroking himself through the thin material of his boxer. He’s not really hard, but the mere thought of Henrik’s full lips is enough to turn him on and soon it’s a vital necessity to touch his cock.

He gasps when he releases his aching dick from his boxer, wishing he could have something better than his own hand. Watching his fingers tightly wrapped around the base of his dick, he wonders what would Henrik’s much longer and thin fingers look like around him, how would the calloused skin of his palm feel on the sensitive skin of his cock.

Closing his eyes, he starts to stroke himself up and down, slowly, careful to not clench his hand too tight.

He thinks about his pretty face, how beautiful he looks smiling and how his blue eyes turn into crystal's colour when the sun's rays pass through them. He remembers the colour of his lips after too much kisses; pink, almost purple, how sinful they look with Tarjei’s saliva on it, how proud he feels when he sees he can utterly bruise them with his thin lips.

He can’t decide on which part of Henrik’s beautiful face and body he wants to focus, whether he would like his lips on his cock better than his hands, or just the mere feel of Henrik’s hot skin on his own, their naked body tangled together for hours, spoiling each other with soft kisses and touches.

He tries to remember how good Henrik’s skin has felt under his fingers pads, the sounds he has made into the car, when Tarjei has tugged at his hair and sucked on his lower lip.

Tarjei wonders how many different kind of sound he could draw out from Henrik, if he could make him moan like no one has ever done before. He wants to mark his skin, every patch of his skin, kiss and lick at places that no one except Tarjei have ever seen.

Suddenly the doorbell rings, startling Tarjei and making him stop the movement of his hand, he freezes. Who could it be? Tarjei is not expecting anyone and it must be quite late already.

It’s not before the second bell ring that Tarjei finally decides to move. As fast as he can, he tries to hide the evidence of what he was doing a few minutes earlier, putting his still hard cock back into his boxer and buttoning up his pants.

He’s a little worry when he climbs up the stairs and crosses the house to reach the front door. Is it safe to open the door when he’s alone at home? Tarjei is not sure. For a few seconds he prepares himself mentally to live the worst time of his life before he dares to open the door slightly, and who he sees here, just in front of him, is the only person that he thought would never come tonight.

“You came.” Tarjei says anxiously, one hand leaning on the open front door, the other running through his dishevelled hair, he must look so neglect now.

“I came.” Henrik says and his smile is a relief on this bad day.

Unlike Tarjei, he looks good tonight, his hair are down, making him look younger and endearing, and judging by the nice clothes he’s wearing, he must have just left a party.

Clearing his throat, Henrik asks uneasily, “Can I come in?”, and Tarjei felt stupid to have not invited him inside sooner, he must be cold outside.

Blushing and hoping Henrik hasn’t noticed the way Tarjei has just checked him out, he smiles, “Of course.”

As soon as the front door is closed, Tarjei wastes no more time and starts to walk towards his bedroom, remembering at the last second how much of a mess his room actually is. It’s dark, untidy, and it probably smells like some horny teenager has been living there for years without ventilate the room.

Worry tinting his voice, Henrik asks, “Were you sleeping?”

He can’t help but blush at the mere thought of what he was really doing before Henrik comes, but thanks to the darkness of the room, he doesn’t think Henrik can be aware of his embarrassment.

Tarjei shakes his head, “No, just chilling. Sorry, I didn’t know you would come. We can go to the living room if you want, my room is-”

“Relax.” Henrik laughs, taking his shoes and coat off before walking closer to Tarjei. “It’s nice here. I like it.” And he looks sincere, all smile and sparkling eyes, stopping his steps when he’s as close to Tarjei as it’s possible to be.

“How- How did you know I was here?” Tarjei stutters, he’s troubled, caught off guard by Henrik’s presence while he thought they would not meet again before months.

“Carl. He told me you have been weird today.”

“Carl?” Tarjei asks puzzled. “But why?” As far as he remembers, Henrik and Carl have never really been the best of friends, exchanging just a few words when they see each other. So, talking together about Tarjei? It's definitively uncommon and weird.

“Why what? You know him, he’s always worrying about the people he loves, and you’re one of them.”

Warmth spreads out inside Tarjei’s chest, he’s so thankful to have good people in his life, people on which to count, people that worry about him. He’s lucky.

“I’m just tired. I had so much to do lately, now that I have less to do I guess I start to relax and that’s why I always feel tired. Carl tends to always exaggerate people’s condition.”

Laughing, Henrik nods, “He’s like a mother.”

“More like a grandma with his ugly aprons. You should see him, he looks ridiculous with them.” Tarjei chuckles too, glancing at a joyful Henrik.

“I saw it.” He says, stopping laughing but still smiling widely, and it’s probably Tarjei’s confused face that makes him continue, “He invited me over tonight, cooked me a weird but tasty meal.”

If Tarjei was puzzled before, he’s now completely lost.

“You went to Carl’s place tonight? So it means we did shopping for you earlier? But why hasn’t he told me that you was coming over?”

“Too many question. Don’t be so surprised, I am going to think that Carl doesn’t like me that much and that he has been hypocritical all night long.”

“He does like you, it’s just weird from him, usually he says me everything.”

Tarjei doesn’t want to think that maybe Carl’s silence about tonight has been to hide from him the fact that Henrik and him were going to talk about him. Thinking about it, what if Henrik has told him about the text? What if Henrik has told him about them, about the kisses and touch ?

Tarjei feels his cheeks heating up once again, his heart starts to beat faster and he’s sweating. Carl will not leave him alone from now. He’s going to act over protectively because _he knows_. Well, he has always knew, in all honesty, but Tarjei has always denied. If Henrik could guess how he was truly feeling, Carl could guess everything about him, what was on his mind, and who was in his heart, much to the despair of Tarjei.

“Does he- Did you tell him about the text?” Tarjei asks anxiously, playing with his fingers and biting at his lower lips.

“I didn’t.” Henrik says, shrugging, and Tarjei knows he’s lying, because he’s unable to maintain eye contact. It’s clear now that Carl and Henrik have talked about him, he’s embarrassed, doesn’t know how to find his self-confidence again.

“I missed you.” Henrik’s words are a band-aid for his pained heart and ego, they give him the courage to grab Henrik by the neck to kiss him.

“And I’ve been thinking about you too.” Henrik adds when Tarjei moves back, panting.

From there, he can’t stop himself from kissing the tall boy. With his arms around Henrik’s neck, Henrik’s hands wrapped around his back, lips on lips, Tarjei sees the light again.

Henrik tastes like red wine and cigarettes, his perfume is stronger than it has ever been, and Tarjei is in paradise. He smile into the kiss when he feels Henrik walking and pushing his body backwards, until the back of his knees collide with the bed frame.

It just takes a knowing stare, a silent exchange of consent, and Tarjei falls backwards on the mattress, his arms still firmly locked around Henrik’s neck, Henrik who has fallen with him too, Henrik who is currently hovering above him, and grinning.

And it’s there that Tarjei gets insecure.

Stopping Henrik before he crashes their lips together, Tarjei asks sadly, “Are you drunk?”

He almost prays every God internally for Henrik to be sober and genuinely conscious of what he was just about to do. They’re alone in a big house, laying on a bed, and clearly aroused, Tarjei can’t take the risk to accept Henrik’s advances if he’s not sober, therefore fully conscious of the situation.

“I am not.” Henrik’s tone is firm as he says it, he seems sincere but still, Tarjei has difficulty to trust him. He has been disappointed so many time before, he doesn’t want to be one more time, and particularly not after a steamy session.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” From the pained expression on his face, Tarjei knows he’s hurting him, but he still nods.

Tarjei is confused when Henrik takes one of his hands from his neck to lead it towards his crotch, and what he feels here, under his palm, makes his stomach twist, in a good way, his face heat up and his dick harden.

Henrik is hard, big and hot under his palm, and Tarjei can’t believe it’s himself that has caused it, can’t believe he’s lucky enough to witness Henrik’s arousal with his own hand.

“It’s you who told me I can’t be drunk and hard at the same time, and you’re right. I guess it works the same for you.”

“It does.” Tarjei whispers weakly, feels himself losing control when Henrik’s cock twitch under his palm.

“Teach me.” Henrik asks before connecting their lips for a short but intense kiss, “Teach me how to touch you.”

Seeing Henrik so determined but also vulnerable at the same time is unsettling, and Tarjei passes several seconds deliberating if accepting Henrik’s request is the best thing to do. Does Henrik really is ready? Does he really want it? Tarjei can’t believe he’s hesitating during a moment like this, when the boy he’s wanted for years now, is hovering above him and offering himself. Usually Tarjei wouldn’t overthink too much, would just go for it and focus on getting off.

And it’s Henrik’s mouth on his neck, the parted plump lips on the sensitive skin there, that make him come back to his senses, the overwhelming sensations Henrik is making him feels while he nibbles at his jaw, sucks from time to time on his neck, kiss his way up to the patch of skin just under his ear where every brush of lips feels like heaven.

Tarjei moans, throws his head backwards under Henrik’s skilful tongue. It’s already so good, and it’s even more when Henrik cups his face with one of his hand, caresses his cheek gently with his thumb, then lets his fingers brush the lobe of his ear, while he continues to kiss his neck, down to his collarbone.

His hand still palming Henrik’s crotch through his pants, Tarjei focuses on the heat coming from the fabric, on the hardness and the shape of what is hiding with difficulty under the rough material. There’s no doubt that Henrik clearly wants it as much as Tarjei does, and the younger boy finally relax, accepts to let go.

Reluctantly, Tarjei takes his hand away to cling onto Henrik’s long locks, which fall on the nape of his neck. Henrik’s lips do wonder wherever they land and Tarjei becomes impatient, can’t wait to feel same all over his body.

He wants to remove the obstacle that is their clothes, but he’s not sure how comfortable Henrik actually is, so he opts for something safe. Spreading his thighs wider, Tarjei then decides to wrap his legs around Henrik, thereby pressing their crotch together.

It’s not something new, Tarjei remembers that they did the same thing in the bathroom, a few weeks ago, but this time is different. It’s different because they’re alone, safe in Tarjei’s bedroom, and especially because they are both sober and consent. This time, Tarjei is sure that Henrik is not going to let him disappointed and blue balled. 

Rolling his hips, Tarjei feels Henrik’s boner rubbing and pressing against his own in the best way. It’s where they kiss again, with Henrik gently caressing Tarjei’s tongue, it’s deep but soft, a kiss that Tarjei is not used to get or give in moments like this one. But Henrik’s softness is what does it for Tarjei, it’s what makes his head spin, his heart and stomach flutter. It’s better than he has ever known and felt before.

Henrik is the first one to slid his hand tentatively under Tarjei t-shirt, letting his fingers stroke the hard skin of the younger’s belly. Tarjei shivers, tighten the muscles on his stomach and Henrik moans, keeps touching every shapes of Tarjei torso.

The first brush of finger on his nipple is almost too much, and he can’t prevent a loud and weird sound from escaping his lips, lips that are still being worshipped by Henrik’s mouth and tongue.

Henrik continues his ministrations on his nipple and it’s almost too much for Tarjei who is certain he’s going to come into his pants any moment now. And it’s not what he wants, not immediately at least, he needs more, more flesh against his skin, more kisses, more touch, more of Henrik.

So he tries his luck, starts to unbutton Henrik’s shirt, slowly, attentive to the older boy’s reaction, but Henrik doesn’t seem to mind.

“Take your t-shirt off too.” He asks, breathless, and Tarjei does, but not before he has completely unbuttoned Henrik’s dark blue shirt, admiring the long and slightly toned torso that is offered to him.

No longer able to resist, Tarjei decides to attempt something. “I have something in mind.” He whispers as Henrik watches him with mesmerizing eyes, waiting for him to continue.

And it almost sounds like a command when Tarjei says “Put yourself against the headboard.”, he feels bad, wants to rephrase what he has just said for it to sound more sweet, more like Henrik may like it.

“I mean, if you want it.” Henrik laughs at it, lift himself and take Tarjei’s hand in his own as he starts positioning himself like Tarjei has asked him.

“Relax. Except if you have very weird fantasies which include whip and candles, I guess I’m ok for whatever you want to show me today.” And Tarjei smiles, sighs in relief before straddling Henrik, slides his trembling hands under the shirt that is still covering Henrik’s shoulder, touches the hot skin of the older boy shoulder blades. “What a pity, me who thought you were open-minded, I am disappointed.” He jokes, then presses a kiss on Henrik’s jaw, nibble down to his neck, taste the perfume and the sweat there.

As soon as he feels Henrik’s hands on his hips, encouraging him to move, Tarjei lets his fingers slide along Henrik’s torso while he starts a sensual dance with his hips. Henrik is sensitive, he’s breathing hard, and Tarjei can feel him clench the muscle of his stomach as his fingers get lower, as they reach the belt loop of his pants.

His mouth still busy kissing the long and thin neck of Henrik, it’s full of fear that Tarjei takes his courage and begins to open the belt. His gestures are clumsy, he’s nervous, and apparently Henrik becomes aware of his struggle because it’s with a light laugh that he takes charge of the problem.

His movements are so much smoother and faster than Tarjei’s, and several seconds later it’s the pants of both of them that are open, letting thereby breathe their erections.

Deciding to take back some power, Tarjei let his mouth roam all over the skin he can reach in this position, caress the soft tummy of Henrik, and he must do things right judging by the sounds Henrik is currently making.

“Touch me.” It’s a whisper, almost a whimper, it’s a desperate request that Tarjei has to process. So he does, dips one of his hand into Henrik’s boxer and touches, stroke, brush at the velvety skin he feels under his fingers.

“You’re so hard.” Tarjei blurts, enthralled by the organ twitching between his hand. The need to kiss Henrik on the mouth is strong, and as soon as his lips crash with the older boy ones it’s a firework of emotion and sensation that explodes inside Tarjei’s body.

The kiss is heated, fierce, passionate, leaves them breathless and sweaty rapidly. Stroking Henrik with his hand confined is not easy, and enjoyable either, he is struggling, scared to hurt him with his nails and make it disagreeable to him.

“You should lower your pants and underwear.” Tarjei advised. “I can’t touch you properly like that.”

“Wouldn’t it be better…” Henrik starts, sliding both of his hands into Tarjei’s jeans and boxer at the same time and squeezing the firm buttocks, making Tarjei gasp and whimper, before he continues, “…If we just get naked?” And Tarjei has to agree, it’s the best idea Henrik has got tonight.

He nods and moves from his place to undress himself more easily, letting Henrik enough room to get rid of his clothes too.

It’s weird at first, being so exposed in front of the boy he’s dreamed about for years. All the memories they have together as friends cross his mind and he gets scared, scared to lose it forever, to ruin everything they have built through the years. He’s petrified, unable to move and Henrik seems worry.

“Are you okay? We don’t have to do anything, it’s not too late.” And Tarjei would have never thought he would be the one freaking out in a moment like this, but it’s Henrik, one of his best friends, a boy he likes and cares about more than any other boy, someone he never wants to disappoint. He has wished for it to happens so many times though, how could he spoil everything because of his insecurities?

Clearing his throat, he tries to reassure Henrik the best he can, “I want it, I really want it. I was just mesmerized by you.” He teases, winking and smirking, as he climbs onto Henrik’s lap, to what this one replies, “I don’t believe you.”

So Tarjei decides to prove to him how turned on he is by Henrik’s everything, by the sight he makes naked and exposed, with his fair and flawless skin on display, his pretty flushed face and disheveled hair, how he likes to see how much Henrik is aroused by him, by what he does to him, by Tarjei body.

He kisses him sensually, tastes every part of his mouth, swallows Henrik’s moans as he touches his hard cock, sliding his hand up and down slowly. It’s even better than in his dreams, everything about Henrik is mind-blowing, from the top of his head to his toes. Tarjei is already so gone, his mind full of this boy, his nose filled with his smell. He feels so safe, so good with his skin against his, their chest crushed against each other, sharing the same air with intense kisses.

And it’s only when Henrik puts his hand on his aching erection that Tarjei realise he doesn’t even have the need to be touched to feel good, Henrik’s moans and the stiff shaft in his hand are more than enough for him to get off. But he can’t lie and say he’s not actually loving what Henrik is currently doing to him.

It’s something he’s never did before, and he’s not regretting the wait, because it can’t be better than doing it with Henrik, with someone as gentle and caring as him.

With his large hand, Henrik is stroking their dicks, rubbing together the proof of their desire for each other. Tarjei lets go of his own hand to put both his arms around Henrik’s neck, needing to hold onto something, feeling like he’s going to faint, seeing stars in front of his now closed eyes. The pleasure is too overwhelming, he has a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, something he has never felt before, and he’s not sure it has anything to do with him nearly coming.

The wetness of their dicks make the slid easier, better, Henrik’s clench is tight around them, he’s so good at it, so skilled. Tarjei can’t prevent his hips from moving, rolling them clumsily because he’s on the edge, ready to fall into the abyss of pleasure. And it’s Henrik grabbing him by his butt, sinking his nails into the flesh of his buttocks that makes him lose control and come.  

He doesn’t know whether it’s because he’s been horny for hours or simply because of Henrik himself but it’s one of the best orgasm he’s had. It’s short, but intense, it’s not sudden blackness, it’s light everywhere, warmth all over his body, inside and outside.

There’s Henrik’s whispering, “You’re so beautiful”, against his ear, and then his tongue on his ear-lobe and a bite, a brutal one, and he knows.

He’s empty, totally wrecked, but hearing Henrik cries and groans as he comes all over Tarjei's stomach and his softening dick makes the latter twitch with interest.

It takes a few minutes for them to come back down to earth, to get their breath back. It’s still clinging on Henrik that Tarjei stutters with a hoarse voice; “It was… wow, thanks.” And yes, he’s not the best talker after an orgasm as intense as the one he’s just got but he’s sure that Henrik wouldn’t do better.

Henrik laughs, “I know what you mean.”

Moving back a little, Tarjei observes him, admires how red Henrik’s cheeks are, how twinkling his eyes are. He’s beautiful.

It’s tentatively that Henrik then cups Tarjei’s face with his hands, pulling him closer until the meeting of their bruised lips. It’s so gentle, intimate, so new to Tarjei who usually doesn’t really like to sweet-kiss with empty balls. But into Henrik’s arms he melts, lets himself go completely, kisses him affectionately.

“We’re gross.” He says, smiling when Henrik agrees, and as he takes some tissues out his nightstand he cannot refrain from asking; “Do you also need tissue?” It’s a stupid joke but it has the merit of making Henrik laugh and Tarjei feels proud somehow.

They’re both too exhausted to properly clean themselves but they don’t care. Tarjei just wants to slip under the sheets and hold onto Henrik, fall asleep with him tangled together.

“Can I stay the night?” Henrik suddenly asks, he looks unsure, small, with his tired eyes and his slouched shoulders. How can he thinks Tarjei would ask him to leave? He’s everything Tarjei wants now.

With a soft smile Tarjei replies; “Of course, don’t even know why you’re asking.”

Still naked, they settle into the bed, Henrik immediately pulling Tarjei’s body against his own, his arm under the younger’s boy head and the other around his waist.

Tarjei doesn’t remember a time where someone has hold him like that, with so much tenderness. He feels full, loved, and safe, as if nothing could harm him right now. His eyelids heavy, he closes his eyes, smiles when Henrik presses his lips on his own for a goodnight kiss.

“I hope you don’t plan to leave your own house during the night.” Henrik teases and Tarjei laughs a little at that. It shouldn’t but it warms his heart to know that Henrik didn’t like waking up without him the morning after Tarjei’s embarrassing break-down at his place.

“Only if you snore too loudly.”

 

-

 

It may have been the sun rays that are passing through the shutters, the loud noise of the engine of the neighbour's car, or just the warm body pressing against him, making him sweat, that caused his awakening, Tarjei doesn't know, but what he's sure of, it's that he's feeling properly rested and in a good mood, ready to start a new day.

His mind still clouded, Tarjei tries to remember the last night, and what comes back to him are flash-backs of a slim and lean body, pale and soft skin, blue twinkling stares, moans and whimpers. It really happened, isn’t it? It cannot be just a figment of his imagination, a dream, not when he can still feel his hands on his body, his lips on his.

Finally, all he’s wished for has finally happened, and it’s not like it’s everyday he wished for the night before to happen again. What they had shared yesterday, all this complicity between them, has made Tarjei realise how bad and boring almost all his previous encounters has been, how it has been good being cared and loved.

It gives him palpitations, makes him wonder if playing around is genuinely what he wants, and he can’t believe he’s already so gone, him, the independent boy who does not believe in romantic feelings.

It’s Henrik stirring beside him who snaps him out of his reverie, and the cute yawn that follows that makes Tarjei smile.

The peace of mind and the relaxed  feeling don’t last long though, Tarjei find himself with a rising sense of uncertainty, his brain starting to get overwhelmed by questions and one in particular; does Henrik is regretting?

It’s possible, after all, he’s always seemed so hesitant, indecisive. Fear invading him, Tarjei freezes, closes his eyes and waits, gives Henrik the choice between staying or leaving.

And the seconds are agonizingly long,  the minutes of silence unbearable, before Henrik is finally making a move.

The lean torso gently pressing against his back and the warm breathe on his nape are a relief, also is the arm wrapping around his middle and the hand wandering up to his chest, brushing over the hairless skin.

It’s so sweet, every gesture from Henrik are so gentle and soothing, even the kisses he leaves on the sensitive skin of his neck, causing him goose-bumps. Henrik is a good lover, Tarjei decides, the perfect kind, probably the one who brings you breakfast in bed, wakes you up with sweet kisses and has flowers delivered to your home office. Totally his opposite.

The gestures almost sooth him to sleep, he could easily drift off under Henrik’s caresses, stay in this state of bliss for hours and not getting bored. He even allows himself to imagine how good it would be to wake up like this every morning, with someone you like beside you, someone as tender as Henrik is.

But does he deserve it? Would he have the patience for a relationship? And above all, would he ever find the right person?

He has always been good with one night stands and sex-friends, never found the need to feel something more than pleasure. Tarjei is young, happy and absolutely not ready to fix his commitment issues.

A hot breath hits his ear as Henrik asks, “Are you awake?”, then kiss his temple. It's hard to find the strength to respond, to leave the wonderful world he was building in his head, so he just nods and groans quietly, making Henrik chuckle behind him.

“Aren’t you hungry? It’s past noon.”

And it’s his still cloud mind, Tarjei decides, that makes him mumbles; “I’m hungry for you.” He doesn’t even regret his words as he waits for Henrik next actions, hoping he could get more of what Henrik has already given to him earlier.

Bursting out laugh, Henrik says, “What did you do to Tarjei? He’s no longer here, I can’t recognize him lately _.” I can’t recognize myself when I’m with you, either_ , is what Tarjei thinks as he turns his head to watch the boy he can’t forget about.

It’s a cheesy thing to say, that Henrik is the prettiest and cutest person he has ever seen in the morning, but it’s what Tarjei genuinely believes. The tangled locks of hair, the sleepy-eyes, and the endearing smile are doing things to Tarjei's heart. He feels it in his guts too, how much he likes him, how much Henrik means to him.

“Don’t you prefer this one?”

Holding himself up on one elbow and with an arm still wrapped around Tarjei’s middle, Henrik gets closer, presses his lips against the younger’s ones and mumbles, “I do.”

Tarjei smiles into the now passionate kiss, lets Henrik turns his body around until he’s comfortably laying on his back, gasping when he feels Henrik settling himself above him. Chest to chest, their dicks rubbing on each other, and their breaths mixing into each other mouths, that's what a perfect morning looks like for Tarjei.

The thrusts of Henrik are more and more powerful, always expert and skilful, they makes Tarjei moaning and griping onto the older boy’s forearms, which are placed on each side of Tarjei’s face.

It’s quite naturally that Tarjei spreads his thighs, wraps his longs and strong legs around Henrik’s waist, keeping him fully on top of him.

Plump lips kissing and sucking all over his neck, Tarjei, no longer able to stay still, brings his nails down Henrik’s long back, up to his butt, where his fingernails sink into the soft flesh there.

It’s from there that each of the boys lose control. Henrik’s thrusts are becoming erratic, faster, stronger, encouraged by the hand clinging on his butt. Tarjei is desperate, has lost touch with reality.

It’s so good to see Henrik so affected, so excited, to feel how wet his hard dick is as it slides against his own erection, sometimes rubbing on his tummy, or against his groin, leaving glistening traces on Tarjei’s skin. 

Heaven, this is where Tarjei is sure to have landed as he comes, comes endlessly between their two bodies, his mouth wide open, whimpering. And he’s sure that it’s not the constant rub on his dick that has caused his climax, but Henrik’s hand grabbing at the back of his knee to bend his leg over his chest, giving Tarjei the opportunity to picture clearly what it would look like to get fucked by him.

It’s also the sexy words murmured in the hollow of his ear, “How I wish I could be in you now”, following by the sharp teeth biting at his neck .It’s Henrik’s short breathes and small sounds. It’s all his being.

Coming back down to earth is tough, he feels likes a drug addict experiencing the painful coming down from a high.

Tarjei is still a little bit overwhelmed when he realises that Henrik has been stroking his cheek affectionately, as if he’s seen Tarjei’s confusion.

“Hey, you good?” Henrik worries, his brows furrowing. Not trusting his own voice, Tarjei settles for a simple nod and a genuine smile, causing Henrik to sigh in relief.

Relaxing above him, Henrik leans in to place a delicate kiss on Tarjei’s lips. It’s comforting, endearing and gives Tarjei the strength to move again.

“Did you…?” He hesitates, his confidence seeming to have flown away. “No, but I can take care of it, if you don’t mind.”

Tarjei blushes from shame  realising he has come as fast as a virgin teenager. “I want to do it for you.” He croaks.

After having encouraged Henrik to lie down on his back, Tarjei doesn’t wait any longer before throwing himself on the older boy, swallowing the inviting lips with his, sliding his fingers through his messy hair.

His unoccupied hand traveling down Henrik torso, Tarjei is amazed by the smooth skin under his palm, by how Henrik is oddly soft comparing to the several boys he’s touched before him. It makes him want to taste his skin, slide his tongue all over the hairless, smooth and hot flesh.

Tarjei starts kissing his way down, first nibbling at his neck, then placing wet kisses along his shoulder, eliciting moans from Henrik. He lets his nose brush the middle of his chest, breathe in the manly smell, before he gives a small lick over one of his erected nipples. And the sound getting out of Henrik’s mouth is so loud it almost startles Tarjei.

Henrik is so sensitive here, throws his head back, his eyes tightly close, a grimace of pleasure deforming  his pretty face. Tarjei can’t help grazing his lips and teeth over and lick the pink button again and again, loving to hear the moans and witness the desperate condition in which Henrik is because of him.

“Tarjei…Touch me.” Henrik’s rasping voice beg. His body is shaking, the muscles tense, his hips thrusting into nothing but air, repeatedly. Feeling sorry for the boy under him, Tarjei decides to relieve him by wrapping his hand tight around the base of the aching and red cock.

Sliding his fist up and down the shaft faster and faster, Tarjei picks up where he’s stopped, sucks one nipple into his mouth and plays with the pink piece of flesh again.

It does it for Henrik, and Tarjei can feel it, how impossibly hard and big his cock is, how much it’s leaking, making Tarjei’s hand wet and sticky.

Henrik is close, ready to come any seconds now, so Tarjei gives his best, kisses his way down to his navel. He then buries his tongue into the small hole while he looks at Henrik’s face, gauging his reactions. His eyes now wide open, he stares at him back with a steamy look, and the need, the expecting for something more is unmistakable. Tarjei understands what he’s expecting and would be more than happy to oblige.

He can taste himself on the older boy skin, and also taste the pre-cum that has leaked from Henrik’s cock and it makes him moan, encourages him to press some tiny kisses along the shaft in his hand.

And it’s all it takes for Henrik to let himself go completely.

Henrik’s fingers firmly tangled in Tarjei’s locks to hold his head in place are hurting, but Tarjei doesn’t care, he just watches the boy above him in awe, watches him bite his lips hard as he comes all over his stomach and Tarjei’s hand, which is still moving up and down the twitching shaft.

An exhausted smile on his face, Henrik finally releases Tarjei’s hair and says; “Come up here”, before grabbing him by the armpits to drag him up to him.

“You’re heavy.” Henrik teases, laughing, his perfect teeth on display, making Tarjei melts a little more. Trying to hide his smile with difficulty, Tarjei snorts, “Nobody asked you to drag me up like a child-” but Tarjei can’t continue to argue because Henrik’s plump lips are preventing him to.

He can’t say how long they kiss, gently, lazily and almost romantically, with Tarjei still on top of Henrik, but it’s not enough, Tarjei thinks while they break the kiss, then stare into each other eyes, enjoying the calmness of the moment.

“We are really dirty.” Tarjei breathes, grimacing, to what Henrik agrees while he raises his eyebrows suggestively, causing Tarjei to roll his eyes. “And really hungry.” Henrik adds smirking when Tarjei’s stomach growls loudly.

“I guess we should eat something first, then shower after, what do you think-”

“Hush!” Tarjei whispers, a hand over Henrik’s mouth to silence him. The expression on Henrik face is funny, and Tarjei almost burst out laughing before he heard another knock on the door and his mother asking, “Tarjei? Are you inside?”

He hopes really hard for his mom to not push the door handle because he’s sure she would faint at the sight of the two naked boys on the bed.

They both stay silent, stop breathing while they wait anxiously for Tarjei’s mom to leave.

As soon as the sound of her steps echo behind the door, Henrik and Tarjei sigh in relief at the same time.

“I forgot they were coming home early today.”

“Do you think we can get out by the window?” Henrik asks with a low voice and Tarjei watches him puzzled for a good one minute. “What?”

“I am not doing the walk of shame when your parent are upstairs.” Tarjei can’t help but laugh, imagining an embarrassed Henrik leaving the house awkwardly with messy hair and creased clothes. It has happened so many times to Tarjei already that he can perfectly picture it. Worst times of his life, clearly.

“Let’s try the window then.”

Tarjei says before getting up of the bed, picking up the clothes from the day before which are strewed all over the floor. He must look disgusting while Henrik still looks good in his creased shirt, all smile and shiny eyes.

They can’t stop laughing as they try to get out by the window, with their long limbs and clumsy movements. It’s Henrik, without surprise, who struggles the most, but with the help of Tarjei he manages to drag his body out without much damage.

Discreetly, they join Henrik's car parked a little further down the street and burst out laughing when they are safely seated inside.

After a short time where they both try to catch their breath, Henrik speaks, “We can’t go grab something to eat with this appearance. Do you want to go at my place and taste my tasty brunch?” And he looks so smug and proud saying that Tarjei’s mouth is already watering as he imagines waffles, scrambled eggs, fruits and orange juice sprawled over the table. “Let me taste it first and then I’ll tell you if you still can be proud of you.” Tarjei teases.

“Is it safe to kiss you here?” Henrik asks suddenly and who is Tarjei to refuse him something as good as a kiss? Fuck safety.

“I don’t give a fuck.” Tarjei blurts before leaning over, kissing Henrik hard on the mouth

He could get used to it, to the kisses, the touch, to _his_ mere presence. He could also get used to waking up beside him, every morning, could enjoy the rides in car, and  maybe the routine and the security that Henrik could offer him

With a radiant smile and hope in his heart, Tarjei declares, “I really like being with you.”


	6. It’s Affection Always, You’re Gonna See It Someday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update  
> I hope you'll still like it  
> Thanks for the kudos and comments !  
> <3

_“You’re so down to earth and he’s up in the stars.” Carl had told him that night, right before everything had dramatically changed for them, but Henrik hadn’t wanted to believe him. He had only shrugged and remained silent, obstinated and firmly persuaded that he had everything under control. In truth, he was just burying his face in the sand, refusing to see that him and Tarjei did not belong to the same world, that it was a lost battle._

_Rather than listening to Carl’s wises advices, he had decided to go blindly ahead. He had left just after he had thanked Carl for the dinner and his attentiveness, then he'd driven fast to escape the endless stream of warning thoughts._

_In front of the boy who couldn’t leave his mind, everything had been easier, as a light into the darkness, an outstretched hand, ready to pull him from the depths of his destructive thoughts._

_And still today, he wonders, wonders how could he regret that night where everything started? How could he regret when the first word coming into his mind when he thinks about him is "fondness"?_

_The tenderness into his eyes, the looks full of something resembling love, Henrik hadn’t only imagined it. It has been Tarjei Sandvik Moe, the one who, according to some people, was incapable of being more than a selfish asshole, who had given Henrik soft kisses and touches for hours, who had wrapped his arms tightly around Henrik’s waist while he was cooking them breakfast, singing over the stupid song which was playing._

_There had been endless cuddles, mixed with laughter and teasing. There had been hope stained with worry, clumsy words and questions; “Is there a universe where you don't come, or where you're not the one I choose? And if it exists, do we meet in another way?” to which Henrik had replied; “Only if we are meant to be.”_

“You’re beaming lately.” His flatmate has told him this morning and he hasn’t been the only one to notice. “That’s because you finally take the initiative to take the trash out.” Henrik has lied, shrugging, before walking towards the front door under the knowing gaze of his friend.

He could have told him, about the source of his happiness, but he's preferred to stay cautious. He isn’t even certain himself, whether what he’s experiencing with Tarjei is something regular or just temporary. And honestly, he doesn’t really care. Or he tries not to, at least, chooses to enjoy every moment that the young boy offers him, tries not to ask himself too many questions which might spoil all the wonderful emotions that Tarjei makes him feel.

And there are a lot of them, of these emotions, of these sensations, some that are foreign, and obviously some that have already more or less been experienced, but never have they been so strong, destabilizing…

It’s easy to focus on the present time when he’s with him, when he is the spectator of his smiles, his bursts of laughter, and his little habits and manners that makes Henrik’s heart melt every time. But it immediately changes when he’s alone, far from him and his actions. He gets worry, insecure, starts to overthink, to regret and he suffocates.

What is Tarjei doing right now? Does he think about him? Does he miss him as soon as they leave each other, too? Does he spend thirty minutes smelling his perfume on his hands afterward to fill the void? Henrik doesn’t think so.

Tarjei seems to be indifferent, looks so impulsive and indecisive, and Henrik hates it. Tarjei represents everything he is not and yet he cannot resign himself to put an end to their little game, even though he knows it might ensure his downfall.

He often blames himself for being a mere weak man, unable to resist Tarjei's charms and reject his advances, he hates himself for being constantly controlled by his insatiable desire for the boy.

Henrik watches the years go by, watches the failures accumulate and his confidence weakens day by day. He cannot assert himself, can’t make any good decisions for himself, doesn’t know what he really wants.

He doesn’t even know himself, so he tries to find himself by experimenting, but he falls, falls every time, and getting up again becomes more and more difficult each time.

So that’s why he has to be a little bit careful, has to protect his heart, if he can to it, because if life has taught him something, it’s that the heart is not easily controllable. Feelings just flow, and you have nothing to make it stop, to block them.

Henrik sighs, rubs his hands all over his face then through his long hair, he really should stop to cogitate as much as he does lately, and there’s only one way to stop it; surround himself, avoid staying alone.

Already excited to go out for having some fun, Henrik takes his phone to send several texts to his friends, asking them if they are free tonight, and if so, want to meet up for a drink. Of course, the temptation to send a message to Tarjei is big, but he would not want to look too clingy, even though it has been a little more than one week that they haven’t seen each other.

Henrik misses him, can’t stop thinking about the night they've spent together. Everything is still clear, he still visualizes every little detail, reminds about the muscular lines of Tarjei's belly, the shivers he has caused on his smooth skin, his face when he has come, his wet kisses, his trembling legs… He misses him so fucking much but the coward he is can’t do anything to fix the problem. He just waits for Tarjei to call him instead.

They talk quite often through texts, they are still Henrik and Tarjei, two buddies who like to joke and tease each other for hours, and Henrik can’t lie and say it doesn’t bothers him a little. Because he has hoped for something more, has hoped that their relationship was going to change, progress after what happened, but in reality, it didn’t.

And that should reassure him, in a sense, that nothing has changed, that they still can laugh together about everything like two good old friends, but it doesn’t, he's just confused and disappointed, feels like he’s stagnating in every area, in his love life but also in his professional life. Nothing moves, nothing changes, and he is fed up.

It’s on this last thought that he decides to leave the couch to go out and get some fresh air.

The night has not yet fallen on Oslo, people start going home after a long day of work and Henrik doesn’t really know where to go. He could stop at one of his best friends place but since none of them has replied to his texts he decides to drop the idea.

Instead he opts for a walk at the park of St. Haushaugen, a place he likes to go when he needs some peaceful time to think properly. The view of Oslo from there is nice and at this hour of the day, the place isn’t really crowed.

 It’s good to breathe the cold but pure winter air, to walk into the melting snow while remembering all the good memories he has made here as a child. What he would give to come back at this time, where everything was easy and simple.

Henrik groans when he hears his phone ring inside of his pocket. He is really not in the mood to meet his friends anymore, he’s feeling good here, alone inside the little bubble he likes to create when he needs to clarify some stuffs inside his head.

He smiles, however, as he reads the name on the screen, it’s him, he’s finally calling, and Henrik hopes it’s for the best.

“Hey!” He greets him joyfully.

“Hi, did you eat already?” Tarjei asks him, his tone as animated as the older boy.

“Not yet, why? Are you going to invite me over? Or pay me some fancy restaurant?”

Tarjei snorts, “You're not far wrong! You know I can’t cook though, and I only have the money for fancy kebab, is it good enough for you?” Tarjei must be walking, Henrik thinks as he hears him breath heavily into the phone. The sound of Tarjei’s raspy voice combined with the short breathes he is taking are doing things to Henrik and he almost feels bad and ashamed to be turned on by such stupid details.

He forces a laugh as he says, “Perfect! Join me at St. Haushaugen, I’m at the park.”

“But-, what if we run into-“

“There are just a bunch of old ladies, I don’t think they even noticed me. Come, I’ll wait by the green bench, you know the one where you once sat on a big dog poop!”

“Super funny!” Tarjei grumbles, even though Henrik can guess he’s smiling and resisting the urge to laugh. “Check if it’s clean, I’m here soon.”

And it’s all Tarjei says before ending up the call.

Henrik is happy, excited, as cheerful as a child during Christmas, and when he finally sees him come from afar he thinks his heart is going to burst out of his chest. His heart is racing, something is twisting deep inside his stomach and he can’t stop the big smile that is forming on his lips.

After giving Tarjei a short and friendly hug he says, “I can’t believe you started your kebab without me.” 

Tarjei laughs and replies with a wink, “You know I like it hot,” and Henrik is fucking blushing. He feels the heat running all over his face down his neck, he’s sweating under the layers of clothes he’s wearing and it’s all because of the so many flashbacks of a sexy Tarjei that are currently overwhelming his brain.

“Are you seriously mad at me?” Tarjei asks with a frown and his cute expression helps Henrik to chill.

A sigh and a fake pout, “A lot. Don’t you think you should make it up to me?” and then it’s all it takes to make Tarjei smirks. His green eyes turn mischievous and Henrik loves that.

“I’ll make it up to you, trust me, but first eat, you need energy.”

That’s a promise, something Henrik waited for weeks and he really shouldn’t be so weak for it but he is.

The cold kebab is eaten in no time, with Tarjei glancing at him from time to time, a smug smile still on his pretty lips. He’s impatient too, can’t stop his legs from jumping while he’s seating on the bench, beside Henrik, close to him.

Breaking the tense silence between them, the younger asks with apprehension, “Do you have plans tonight?” Henrik has plans, or rather had, he’s not so sure anymore, he has forgotten. His friends, the beers, the laughs, everything is forgotten because he’s here now, looking as handsome as ever with his messy curls and sweatpants and pimples covering his forehead.

“The same as yours.” He tries, hopeful.

There’s lust dancing into Tarjei’s eyes as he fixes Henrik with an interested look. Shoulders slouching a little bit, Tarjei hesitates, “My cousin’s staying over for one week...” and Henrik doesn’t think about the risk he’s taking when he offers, “Come at my place?”

That's all it takes for Henrik to get up from the bench and start walking, almost running, to his apartment, with Tarjei following him behind, looking a bit nervous.

They don’t talk much, just glance at each other, sometimes exchanging a shy smile. They are both embarrassed because they know. They both know what’s going to happen when the door of the apartment will be closed, when they’ll let down their fears and interrogations.

Henrik wants to give and take everything he has missed during those days living without him.

The white dried sauce on the corner of Tarjei’s mouth is appetizing, feeds Henrik’s dirty thoughts and makes his dick harden. It’s so cliché, to picture some other kind of white substance over Tarjei’s lips, over his face, his body, his-.

“Is there something on my face?” Tarjei chuckles as he rubs both of his cheeks and then his mouth with the back of his jacket, “Is it funny to you? Watching me walking outside with dirt all over my face?” Tarjei’s tone isn’t upset, he’s just being a tease, laughs at something childish while Henrik’s brain is full of obscene images. “Why do you think I was staring at you during all this time?” Henrik says, trying to act cool, to take his composure back.

“Asshole.” Is Tarjei’s last word before they finally arrive in front of Henrik’s apartment.

“Are we alone? Is he working tonight?” Tarjei asks, full of hope but still worry and Henrik nods with a warm smile, taking off Tarjei’s jacket from his shoulders, like the perfect gentleman he tries to be, and the quiet, shy “thanks” he gets from Tarjei is more than rewarding.

Heading towards the kitchen, Henrik offers, “Do you want beer? We can watch this new show on Netflix I told you about last time.”

It’s not really something new, hanging out together as friends, but it’s not really usual either. Henrik loves that, though. He loves Tarjei’s presence beside him on the soft sofa, how he has naturally curled up against him in an affectionate way, his head resting on Henrik’s chest.

Lovers, they look like lovers chilling out after a hard day. It’s something simple, and yet Henrik is filled with happiness and fondness. What could be better?

The show is shitty and predictable but Tarjei seems to like it, so Henrik doesn't bother him, watches his long lashes move from time to time, his pointy nose shining under the light. He’s so unique with his face so well modelled, he’s art and tonight at least, Henrik is the only witness of his beauty.

Suddenly, Tarjei’s deep voice raises, “I know you stare and you should know I hate it.”

Henrik is curious. “Why that?”

“Because it makes me feel uncomfortable.”

“But it’s me.”

“Precisely because it’s you.” Tarjei’s face is closed, he suddenly seems full of anger.

“I think you’re really beautiful, and that’s a waste to not look at you.”

It's a devastating kiss that follows Henrik's confession, a kiss that leaves him breathless and vulnerable. Those thin lips pressing and moving against his, sometimes gently, sometimes hungry, wake up some parts of himself that he did not know until then. He’s himself when he’s alone with him, he’s not the funny best friend, not the perfect person people wants him to be, he’s not acting to please his audience. He’s Henrik, a boy with his flaws and insecurities, a boy who likes another boy and tries to not label himself as the present society would like it.

Tarjei, the one he needs to silence his thoughts. His drug, an unhealthy way of escaping his inner demons.

So, it's without further hesitation that he kisses him harder, deeper, lets his hands sliding under Tarjei’s sweatshirt to feel his hot skin on his fingertips while the younger straddles him.

“I need to-” Tarjei mumbles, but he is quickly cut off by Henrik's hungry mouth. Pushing Henrik by the shoulders he says reluctantly, “I need to shower first.”

Frustrated, Henrik chuckles anyways and assures with a suave voice, “You smell as good as the flowers that bloom in the spring.”

The confession makes Tarjei’s cheeks turn pink, makes him prettier than he already is, “Bullshit, I was at the gym before calling you, trust me you don’t want to put your nose under my armpits.”

“Why not? I could discover a new kink.”

“You’re disgusting.” A laugh against Henrik’s mouth, then a light press on it, and Henrik offers, “You can borrow my shower, but on one condition. You let me shampoo your hair.”

As he throws his head backwards, Tarjei bursts out laughing, “Fuck, you’re so cheesy! I don’t think I can handle it anymore. So you have to promise me that you'll keep your mouth close if I let you shampoo my hair.”

“I’ll be good, count on me.”

And that's how, a few minutes later, they find themselves locked in the small bathroom, undressing timidly, exchanging knowing smiles. Under the bathroom’s light, Tarjei’s body is as beautiful as in Henrik’s memories, long, fit but slim at the same time. He’s gorgeous, with his messy dark blond curls and the naughty expression on his face as he says, “Hurry up, I’m not going to wait forever.”

The shower is small, way too small for two tall boy bodies, but they manage to find a good position under the shower head, facing and standing close to each other.

The hot water falling onto their skin combined with the heat of their body pressed together make Henrik’s head spin. It’s a visceral need to hold onto Tarjei, to touch his skin, and so, Henrik cups the wet face of Tarjei between his hands before pressing their foreheads together.

“It’s good. It feels so good.” Tarjei whispers as his wraps his two arms around Henrik’s back.

Henrik has missed it so much, the feel of Tarjei’s flat, tall body, the smooth and rough patches of skin, their hardening cocks pushed together. He knows he could get off just like that, their eyes locked in an intense gaze, the velvet skin of Tarjei’s dick brushing against his own arching erection.

That’s so new to him, this fragility, this well-being, the way he can let himself be completely surrendered to the arms of a lover.

“You deserve to wash my hair after all this religious silence.”

“What a privilege!” Henrik winks as he takes the bottle of shampoo, empties a little of the creamy perfumed liquid onto his palm while he asks Tarjei to turn around.

The moment is full of tenderness, probably the sweetest moment they have shared so far. Henrik takes his time to soap Tarjei’s long strands of hair, massaging his scalp gently from time to time, sliding his fingers down the nape of his neck, making the younger boy moans.

He could get used to it, to those simple but kind of romantic instants, where the both of them are inside the little world they’ve created for them only, feeling good, full, and happy.

“Ouch! You've put soap in my eyes.” Tarjei groans, rubbing his eyes furiously as Henrik laughs, “Lean your head back, how am I supposed to avoid your eyes when you don’t stop lowering your head.”

If washing Tarjei’s hair has been an amazing experience, soaping his body is even better. Henrik’s hands easily slid on the smooth, damp skin of Tarjei’s back, careful to stop before the begin of his round buttocks, even though Henrik is dying to touch it. His hands then glide along his arms, his lean torso where Henrik touches on purpose the erected nipples with his fingertips, eliciting a whimper from Tarjei who is leaning his head back on the older boy’s shoulder.

“Touch me, please. Anything, just do it.” Tarjei begs, rubbing his nose against Henrik’s neck, one of his hand gripping hard on the wet hair falling there.

Henrik is unsettled for a moment, with the pressure of Tarjei’s perfect ass against his erection, the goose bumps running all over his body caused by the lips nibbling at his neck and the pleasant request from the younger boy, it’s a bit difficult to have a clear and working brain.

From where he is, Henrik can perfectly see how aroused the boy is, his cock twitching against his toned stomach looks red and impatient. It is begging to be touched, but Henrik wants to play, wants to tease Tarjei a little bit, just to test him.

He lets his hands slid down and up Tarjei’s torso slowly, agonizingly slowly, intentionally avoiding the two pink erected buds on his way.

Henrik could caress his chest and belly for hours, Tarjei is so well sculpted, so beautiful and soft under his palms that it’s almost impossible to stop.

Tarjei lets out a small laugh from his lips before whispering, “We can be two playing.” And play he does.

Rolling his hips like him only knows how to do it, with skill and sensuality, Tarjei tugs at Henrik’s hair harder as he starts sucking on his ear’s lobe, and Henrik can’t believe how much it turns him on. He’s sweating under the hot water and steam, is sure his heart is going to burst out of his chest at the same rate that the cum from his dick if Tarjei keeps being a tease.

“One day,” Tarjei starts archly, “You’re going to take me in this position.” And Henrik can’t help but grip tightly on Tarjei hips, bringing the slim body between his hands closer to his as he shuts his eyes, bits at his lips to prevent a loud moan at the thought of what Tarjei is hinting.

These last days he couldn’t stop imagining how it would feel to be inside him, to take him slowly and deeply, the tightness, the heat, it makes his head spin, his brain blackout.

“You won.” He says reluctantly as he takes a hold of Tarjei hard dick. Still holding him in place against him, he strokes the slit with his thumb long enough to make Tarjei shake and whimper.

“Do you fantasize about it?” Henrik asks curiously, kissing Tarjei’s temple while the younger boy nods, “A lot.”

Approving the answer with a loud groan, Henrik takes pity on him and finally allows Tarjei some relief as he begins to properly jerk him off, the tight fist of his hand going up and down at the perfect pace, making sure that it feels good for the younger boy.

A little bit sheepishly, and obviously helped with the excitation running through his veins, he tries to know more, “How would you want it? Slowly? Languorously?” It’s a sharp moan that falls from Tarjei’s lips, followed by a raspy “Yeah.”

Definitively encouraged by Tarjei’s little gasps, Henrik keeps pumping the younger’s impossibility hard cock as he starts to grind against the tender flesh of his ass, his free hand now caressing his long torso, holding the boy as close to him as he can.

“Can you imagine it better now?” Henrik pants into his ears, before sucking lightly on the earlobe because he knows how much Tarjei loves that. Legs trembling, Tarjei says weakly, “I bet you feel so fucking amazing”, as he aches his back, pressing as much as his ass onto Henrik leaking cock, his fingers still tangled into the taller boy’s hair.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, everything about you is beautiful.” Henrik can’t stop the praises from coming out of his mouth as he watches in awe Tarjei’s body, the muscle on his stomach clenching and unclenching, his beautiful dick, the curve of his back, his perfectly shaped ass.

Already breathless, Tarjei almost begs Henrik to kiss him, and Henrik can’t believe his luck. The smoothness of his lips, the wetness of his tongue and the quiet moans, they drive Henrik crazy.

It’s so much at once, Tarjei is everywhere, Henrik feels so full and spoiled that he doesn’t know if what he's currently living is genuinely real.

There’s possessiveness in the kiss they share, bruises forming on their lips caused by the bites and the recurred suctions. There’s his voice, almost inaudible, raspy and croaky which asks, “Faster, please go faster!”

And Henrik tries, does his best with his wrist, takes the cute-ly shaped cupid bow of Tarjei between his own lips, then between his teeth, sucking on it hard, just to make the younger boy cry and shake a little more, and mostly because it's one of the things he likes the most about him. His cupid bow, the shape of his lips, so special and rare.

“Don’t fucking stop.” The water is burning his hot skin, and his arm is getting painful, but he keeps the rhythm with his hand and his hips, pumping and grinding at the same time.

Just a few stuttered words, “Yeah, yeah, like that, keep going,” and it happens. Tarjei’s body tenses under his hands, his head tossing back and falling against Henrik’s shoulder.

A series of “Fuck!” and curses and Tarjei finally comes hard, thick white stains covering the shower’s wall and Henrik’s fingers, teeth sinking into the thin skin of Henrik’s neck as Tarjei tries to muffle his moans. Henrik is stunned to find that the sharp pain is almost enough to make him come, that, but also Tarjei’s groans, the way his body spasms and shivers.

Proudness, that’s what he feels, mixed with so many other feelings like love. He knows he’s being delusional though, knows that what he’s currently feeling is just caused by the arousing. With his still hard dick and full balls, how could he have a clear mind?

Love is more than sex in the shower, than hidden, heated kisses. Loving someone is complicated, it takes sacrifice and maturity. Henrik has read somewhere that true love isn’t about “give and take”, loving someone is giving, giving without expecting anything in return. It’s wanting the best for them, it’s accepting their flaws and faults. Loving someone requires patience and motivation, it takes time.

What Tarjei and him share is just desire, pure lust. They are guided by their dicks and hormones and it ends up here.

Tarjei loves his independence, his freedom, so how could Henrik take from him what he cherishes the most?

It’s utterly crazy.

Interrupting Henrik’s thoughts, Tarjei says, “Fuck, it was good.” Chuckling, he turns around slowly, facing Henrik to watch him with glazed eyes. “Thanks.”

His smile is devastating, goes straight to Henrik’s heart instead of his dick and it hurts.

“I’m going to take care of you now.”

His rosy cheeks make him look younger than he actually is, make him look innocent and harmless while he’s dangerous. Like a cute kitten, he glances at Henrik mischievously, before licking the older boy's closed mouth, lapping at the drops of water falling on it.

A teasing hand sliding from his neck to his stomach is all it takes to Henrik to break his self-control. He swallows Tarjei’s lips, his tongue, everything he can reach inside this naughty mouth as he holds his head tight between his fingers. He must look desperate, almost crazy, moaning and shaking while nothing really interesting is happening to his dick, but he doesn’t care.

Like the selfish he is, he takes. He takes as much of Tarjei as he can. Because one day, maybe soon, somebody else is going to be just like him now, worshipped by Tarjei’s mouth and body, loved by him for a few hours.

It hurts, it fucking stings, yet he focuses on him, on the fingers that are now playing with his balls, kneading them gently, just the way he likes it. He focuses on the lips that are running over his neck, then his chest, on the tongue caressing his right nipple.

Tarjei is a skilled lover, knows where to put his lips, where to lick, and what to do with his hand. Honestly, Henrik has never experienced anything better in the past, and he’s sure that it has nothing to do with the fact that Tarjei is a boy.

Logically, Tarjei should be better at guessing about the touches Henrik likes the most than girls, but still, the way Tarjei drops to his knees slowly with his tongue dragging along the muscles of Henrik’s stomach, staring up at him with a naughty look, clearly proves how experimented he is.

And it shouldn’t bother Henrik so much to know that he isn’t the first boy for whom Tarjei drops to his knees, but it does. Jealousy, that's what he’s feeling, and he’s pathetic.

“Wait.” Henrik suddenly shouts, grabbing Tarjei by the shoulders to push him back. It startles Tarjei who is looking at him with a puzzled and disappointed expression.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks uneasily. “No!” He answers, a little bit too fast and highly. Clearing his throat, he adds, “You don’t have to…” The words get caught, he goes mute, feels his face heating up.

Tarjei laughs awkwardly, raises up from the floor, sighing, “I get it. It’s ok, I should have asked about your limits. Getting your dick sucked by a boy might be a little bit too gay for you.”

His voice is deep, serious, his tone bitter and heavy.

Dumbfounded and still ashamed, Henrik doesn’t reply, he just stays still, his eyes fixed on the flooded shower floor, his heart beating fast and his dick softening.

“I need to go. It’s awkward and I don’t want to say anymore dumb shit.”

But Henrik doesn’t let him leave, he grabs his wrist and turn him around, meets Tarjei’s eyes and kiss him.

He kisses him hard and eagerly, tries to put all the words and feelings he can’t voice out inside the kiss because he’s a coward full of fears. Tears are burning his eyes and crying is the worst thing that could happen now. He has no reason to cry. He’s an adult, a grown man who just rejected another one, how could he let himself cry?

“Sorry.” Tarjei apologies. For what? Henrik doesn’t know. He feels bad, feels remorse starting to eat him up.

He wants to fix the situation, begs Tarjei to stay but he doesn’t. He watches him leave, hears him dry his body and dress himself hastily before getting out of the bathroom.

And that’s it, it’s over. Another misunderstanding, another ruined moment.

But how could he enjoy a blowjob properly when his mind is filled with images of Tarjei with another man than him?

When he hears his phone buzzing, he doesn’t even bother to soap his body, he just leaves the shower. There’s worry filling his heart as he sees Tarjei name on the screen. A message. It must not be something good.

_“I ran into your roommate while I was in the stairs. He watched me oddly, must be the wet hair. Be careful to hide yours, you would not want him to find out we showered together. And please, don’t call me to apology, you did nothing wrong. I’m crazy, your body is yours and yours only. You decide.”_

_My body isn’t the problem_ , Henrik wants to write, it’s my heart, but he doesn’t.

He leaves the bathroom quietly, locks himself into his room, and ignores the knock on the door. He’s really not in the mood to explain himself.

 

-

 

Only a few days passes before Henrik gives in and calls him. He tries three times before finally hearing Tarjei’s voice.

“Yeah?” The younger boy says, out of breath. It’s a Saturday night and he must be partying somewhere in the city now, like he uses to do when he’s the weekend free.

“Am I disturbing you?” Henrik nervously asks, praying any Gods that he hasn’t just interrupted Tarjei with someone.

With an unaffected, almost cold tone, Tarjei hesitates, “Hum…You don’t. What’s up?”

Tears wells up in Henrik’s eyes when the voice of a girl calls Tarjei. He knows it’s stupid to assume that this girl did anything with Tarjei tonight. It could be just a friend, or even a mere acquaintance, why does he always have to imagine the worst?

“I think we should meet.” Tonight, he doesn’t want to beat about the bush, he needs to see him, to talk to him, to fix things one more (and he hopes, last) time. But Tarjei stays silent behind the phone, he has regained his breath now and seems to have walked away from the girl because Henrik can’t hear anything except his footsteps.

“Listen.” Henrik starts, sighing, “I don’t want you to think I wasn’t enjoying the things you were doing to me.”

Tarjei snorts, “You don’t have to explain yourself, Henrik. As I already told you, it’s your body, it’s your choice. I tend to be too impulsive, and it’s a good thing you stopped me.”

“You don’t get it. You did see yourself that I was enjoying it. It has nothing to do with me being disgusted by you sucking me off. It’s just…”

“What is it then? Why can’t you say what’s your problem? Why do you always have to make things complicated?” Tarjei barked, clearly annoyed and upset with Henrik behaviour.

“I want to see you, please. Let me explain face to face.”

“I am busy tonight.” That’s the only explanation Tarjei gives to him. Anger is rising inside of Henrik, his nerves getting the better of him and so he retorts, “Yeah, I figured out a bit earlier when she called you. Did she let you eat her out? I am sure she’s a lot bolder than me.”

“I can’t believe you’re suddenly acting jealous.” Tarjei huffs, “You really think I bang everyone, do you? Is that’s why you wanted to try things with me? Because you think I accept to fuck everyone? What am I? A toy at your service to experience things with? Go fuck yourself, Henrik.”

Henrik can’t believe Tarjei spiteful words. The aversion in his voice is new, is usually not directed to Henrik, or has never been until now.

His ears are ringing, his view blurring and his head spin as he tries to assimilate all the accusations that Tarjei has just thrown at him. Anger, a sense of injustice, Henrik feels it all. Yet, he tries to keep calm, tries to choose his words carefully, “I hope you’ll realize that you’re wrong about me. Have fun.”

Henrik ends up the call before hearing Tarjei response. Tears now rolling on his cheeks, he wipes them furiously as he let out a loud frustrated groan, standing up from his bed to walk around his room aimlessly.

He doesn't want to believe that the overwhelming happy feeling he has been experimenting for weeks is now gone and dead, replaced by sadness and anger. He’s alone on a Saturday night, brewing over his relationship with Tarjei, a relationship only based on sex, which he should be relieved to be rid of, and yet… Yet Henrik is more downhearted than he’s ever been.

Long blond hair, almond blue eyes, soft skin and floral scent. Maybe that’s what he needs now.

He smokes three cigarettes in a row and calls her.

 

-

 

Sleeping with her has cured nothing. It was good, as good as usual, but it wasn’t him. Passion, that’s what he has with him, and with him only. His bond with Tarjei is very strong, and now that he has got a taste of what they could be, it’s even harder to move on something else.

He hasn’t promised her anything, and she’s understood, has let him leave in the morning with a sympathetic smile. But he has seen her pained expression, her dull eyes and slumped shoulders. Another mistake. Another remorse added to the already long list.

He has tried to ask for advices to some friends, even his mother, but it hasn’t turned to be useful. The truth is that it’s still complicated for him to admit that the person who is turning his life down is actually a boy. So, he lies, hides the truth when he’s talking about Tarjei, call him a “she”, and he’s disgusted of himself.

Even his roommate, who was suspecting that something was off between him and Tarjei a few days before, has started to believe every lies Henrik told him.

_“Don’t worry, you know how girls are…”, “Yeah, it’s still complicated with Lea.”, “It’s this new girl I met last month who refuses to talk to me because I fucked up.”_

Yeah, he has become the best liar of the town and he isn’t proud about it.

Tarjei, meanwhile, remained silent for a few days, before finally sending a message to Henrik this morning, probably excited and happy to announce that he had got a new role in a movie, the one he had dreamed of for months.

He has felt proud and relieved somehow, relieved to see that he was still a part of Tarjei life, a part important enough to be let know about his projects and successes.

Henrik has hesitated, typed several congratulations texts and then deleted them because they didn’t sound like him, didn’t sound sincere enough.

A suffocate hug, a long and sweet kiss, that’s what he wants to give him, it’s a _“Congratulations! I was sure you were going to nail it!”_ said face to face, a tender smile in return and the vision of his blushing cheeks as a gift.

So, nearly twelve hours later, as he is relaxing into a too hot bath, he types on several stupid emoji; an ugly smiley, a party popper and an odious thumb up and send it quickly before throwing his phone on the bathmat. It’s the worse text he has ever written in his whole life, and he has just send it to the boy he likes the most on earth. Awesome!

He’s surprised when his phone's screen light up several seconds later. It’s a complicated task to catch a hold on his phone but he manages and when he reads the text he’s just got from Tarjei, he panics. _“You better have some good champagne ready cuz I’m coming.”_

_“Are you serious?”_ He asks right away, biting on his lips, with his heart thumbing hard in his chest. From stress or anticipation, he doesn’t really know.

_“Never has been more serious.”_

Henrik gets out of the bath in no time at all, slips on the floor dangerously but fortunately, no harm is done. He barely has time to put on his sweatpants as the doorbell rings.

His hair dripping wet, he runs as fast as he can, and when he opens the door he sees something unexpected.

Tarjei is crying, bloodshot eyes and tears running down his cheeks to his neck.

There’s so much pain filling Henrik’s chest that he suddenly feels like suffocating. Tarjei crying is an image Henrik wants to forget and never see again.

“What’s happened? Are you okay?” Henrik worries, closing the door behind him before cupping Tarjei’s face between his hands.

Eyes locked with him, he observes him carefully, trying to spot any wound but there’s nothing.

“Oh my god, tell me why you are crying?!” He blabbers.

“Calm down.” Tarjei says with a shaky voice, “I’m not crying! Well I am, but I’m good, really. Everything is alright. I’m just happy to have got the role and-”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Tarjei glances up at him for a second before lowering his eyes, a shameful look on his face. “I had a fight with my parents.” He sighs.

“And I told them horrible things. I tend to say awful words when I’m angry, words than I don’t genuinely think. I’m such a pathetic twat.”

“Don’t say such things.”

“But it’s true!” Tarjei yells as he steps back, removing his brown jacket and shoes with vigorous movements. “Look at us, I fucked up everything.”

“You didn’t.”

There’s a lull in the conversation where they both stare at each other, fists clenched and heavy breathing.

It’s Tarjei who breaks the awkward silence as he whispers, “You’re such a fool.”

In a downcast tone, he continues, “I slept with her, the night you called.”

Even though Henrik already knew it inwardly, his heart still twists inside of his chest when he hears Tarjei confesses. “You didn’t have to tell me.” He says, sadly. And he understands why Tarjei has called him a fool earlier, because despite the pain and the anger he feels, Henrik still goes to him, take a few steps until he’s close enough to press his forehead against Tarjei’s.

Tarjei doesn’t flinch.

“Did you like it?” He asks. A masochist, that’s what he is.

“I did.”

Henrik grits his teeth, closes his eyes, swallows the lump in his throat. “Did you think about me?” Because Henrik did think about him the same night, while he was getting laid by the girl he has loved the most back in the days.

Tarjei kisses him instead of answering his question, he kisses him with fervour and distress, and Henrik, like the fool he is, accepts, opens his mouth wide and eats his face. Because that’s all Tarjei agrees to give him and he’s too weak and whipped to reject him.

Not tonight, not now that he’s holding him, his hands around his neck, pressing him against the wall of the living room with his body, not after so many days of privation.

No word is strong enough to express how much he’s missed him, missed the way they just fit together, the way they kiss and touch each other with the same passion as at the beginning.

“Bedroom.” Henrik manages to articulate between kisses and heavy breathes.

They stumble on the way, hit a few furniture and laugh it off, their hands intertwined and Henrik’s lips on Tarjei’s neck.

Locking the door behind him, Henrik knows he doesn’t make the best choice, not only for himself but for the both of them. They should talk, he should admit his concerns and fears about Tarjei and their relationship.

It’s not the right time, though. The younger boy is already upset because of the fight with his parents, already hating on himself enough for Henrik to add any other scars.

“You think I’m disgusting, right?” Tarjei murmurs with puppy eyes, torturing Henrik’s heart.

Tilting Tarjei’s chin up with his fingers, Henrik gives him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Does it look like I’m disgusted when I’m with you?”

Tarjei seems to study him for a minute, watery green eyes staring at him. He licks his lips, a nervous habit he does often, and with a small voice, says, “Is it weird if I ask you to cuddle me?”

“Let’s cuddle.” Henrik approves, laughing heartily. He kisses Tarjei’s sad pout away and laces his fingers with his, adding “You’re cute,” before pulling him towards the bed.

It’s with some slow and shy movements that Tarjei removes his clothes down to his underpants, until his fingers stop on the waist of his boxer. Focusing on a place somewhere on the floor, Tarjei asks sheepishly, “Is it ok if I get naked?”

The insecurity that passes through his voice is unusual. Henrik wants back the confident, energetic, and witty Tarjei, the one who calms his own doubts and worries, who makes him laugh and relax. Not the one who feeds his own anxieties.

Henrik has a hunch that their role has been reversed, and he’s not sure he likes that.

Standing on the other side of the bed, facing Tarjei, Henrik starts to pull down his sweatpants, the only piece of clothes covering his body.

“Put yourself at ease.” He smiles mischievously, cocking his eyebrows as he stares directly into Tarjei’s widening eyes. He trie to lighten up the mood, in vain.

There’s so much tension into the room once Tarjei is as naked as him that it’s almost unbearable.

Henrik lets his eyes roam the younger’s boy body before climbing up on the bed, tapping the empty place beside him to invite Tarjei to join him. “Come.”

Tarjei is so pretty, looks so angelic with his curls framing the delicate features of his face, that Henrik can’t help but push the strands of hair out of his forehead affectionately. The light of the full moon entering the room through the window highlights the curves of his body, broad shoulders, lean torso and long, slim legs. If Henrik wouldn’t be so much attracted to Tarjei, he would definitively envy his physique right now, but in the current situation, however, he just stares, takes him in while Tarjei stays still on the bed, sitting on his knees.

And Henrik can’t stop his hands from coming up to touch, smiling smugly when he feels goose bumps break out on the skin as his palms move up and down.

“I love touching you.” Henrik whispers, making Tarjei flush and laugh quietly.

There’s nothing sexual, just gentle caresses, fingers brush on heated skin, as their eyes are locked together. Henrik doesn’t know how long they stay like that, feeling each other’s skin and enjoying the calmness of the moment, the sound of the wind outside.

As soon as Tarjei kisses him though, the atmosphere changes. The sensation of his bare skin on his does things to Henrik and he can’t help but moan as he captures Tarjei’s upper lips between his teeth, bites and sucks on it as gently as he can.

Settling himself on Henrik's thighs, Tarjei lets out between two short kisses, “I only think about you.” And although it might be a lie, Henrik’s heart starts to beat faster at the words.

From there, Henrik no longer controls his brain, just does what his heart asks him to do. He grabs Tarjei by the waist, hold him tightly and kisses him desperately before letting his mouth roam the younger’s boy neck.

As he lies down Tarjei carefully on the mattress to have more access of his entire body, Henrik continues to taste the soft skin, moans when Tarjei’s addictive smell fills his nose.

Teasingly, Henrik takes one nipple into his mouth while he rubs the other one with his index finger, observing Tarjei’s reactions. He already looks so affected, his head moving from left to right, eyes tightly shut, and one hand coming down to tug at Henrik’s hair.

He’s breathing hard too, especially when Henrik begins to head south, dragging his lips down to Tarjei’s navel where he buries his tongue as deep as he could, rubbing his face on the fit stomach, breathing him in.

Above him, Tarjei is making sounds Henrik has never heard him make, sometimes throaty groans, sometimes small high-pitched cries, that go directly to Henrik’s cock.

As he leaves short wet kisses downer Henrik thinks about the sounds he could draw out of Tarjei lips if he’d dare to swallow him down. He doesn’t know if he can though, not so early at least. He’s afraid to make it bad for Tarjei, he has no experience at all with boys after all and he knows how much a poorly done blowjob can be unpleasant.

Once he’s facing Tarjei’s dick, he takes a minute to look at the erected shaft closely, watches it twitch and leak under his eyes. It’s tempting to taste it, he’s curious to know how it would be to have his mouth full of Tarjei, how far he’d would be able to go, and whether Tarjei would feel proud of him.

It’s the prettiest laugh that brings him back to reality. “Are you going to exanimate the thing for hours?” Tarjei teases, holding himself up on his elbows and staring at Henrik with a fond expression.

Henrik blushes, feels stupid for his behaviour. Tarjei has made it clear that he doesn’t want to be just a doll to experience things with. He’s human, and he doesn’t deserve a looser like Henrik.

“Sorry.”

“Come here.” Tarjei says, smiling kindly.

Coming up to level Tarjei’s face, Henrik apologies again, “I’m sorry, I just need time.”

“It’s ok. If you never want to go any further than touching me, it’s ok too. Remember when I said I was going to teach you things? I was genuine, but I wasn’t imposing you anything. Do what you feel is good for you.” Tarjei says, selling his comforting words with a sweet kiss.

Tarjei is definitively different tonight, caring and understanding. He takes the time to listen, doesn’t act on impulsivity, and it warm Henrik’s heart.

“Are you tired?” Tarjei asks, as if Henrik’s only wish now would be to sleep while his dick is still hard and big between his legs.

Putting Tarjei’s hand on his erection, Henrik jokes, “Very tired, as you can feel.”

Eyes glazed with lust and desire, Tarjei gulps, “I can fix it, if you want.”

Thumb grazing above Tarjei’s soft, slightly open lips, the older boy watches with wide, dark eyes Tarjei’s tongue poking out to lick at his finger.

He can’t prevent his hips from thrusting into Tarjei’s hand, which is still holding his dick in a tight fist, when he gets what Tarjei is hinting.

Tarjei doesn’t look away as he slowly takes Henrik’s thumb into his mouth, wraps his wet and hot tongue around it before sucking lightly.

He looks so good at it, hollowing his cheeks as he teases the fingertip with the tip of his tongue. No need to say that Henrik is internally blaming himself for having refused to test out Tarjei’s skills while they were in the shower, weeks ago.

Henrik knows he could come just by watching him sucking on his finger, and he tries to etch every second of the scene currently playing before his eyes for later, when he’ll be alone and aroused and desperate to get off.

As Tarjei adds dirty, wet sounds to the sucking, Henrik moans his name shamelessly, thanking the younger boy when he starts moving his hand on his dick faster.

“Wait.” Henrik says, out of breath, as he hides his face into the crook of Tarjei’s neck, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes when he adds, “I’m clean.”

Tarjei stops his movements, releases Henrik’s thumb from his lips and says puzzled, “What do you mean?”

His face is impossibility red now, he’s sweating, and he doubts he still smell as good as he was when he’s left the bath, but he answers anyway, stuttering a little bit, “I-, you can-, if you still want it you can-, you can blow me.” He whispers the last two words, embarrassed.

“Oh god.” Tarjei suddenly bursts out laughing, and Henrik is now totally dying from shame, doesn’t even dare to move.

“I thought you were asking me to…” Tarjei starts before stopping, hesitating a few seconds and then, “To play with your ass.”

It takes quite a long time, but Henrik finally get the misunderstanding, and he laughs too as he realises how stupid he is tonight. “It would have been weird.” He says, still laughing, as he finally raises his head to look at Tarjei. "Coming from me."

“Yeah, that’s why I was lost for a second.”

Tarjei is such a sight now, smiling so wide that the wrinkles around his eyes show up, hair a mess of soft curls. Henrik would eat him if he could.

“But yeah, I still want to blow you, if you’re still in the mood.”

There’s a second where Henrik doubt again, where he measures the pros and cons with a sense of anxiety. But Tarjei presses his mouth against him in an affectionate kiss and Henrik accepts to let himself go, the disturbing thoughts dissipating as he lays on his back on the mattress.

Tarjei’s eyes travelling up and down his exposed body, he feels self-confident. It’s a new feeling, usually his lanky body is not something he’s proud of, but Tarjei’s sparkles-filled gaze makes him feel like he’s the best and most handsome man of the world.

“Don’t forget you can stop me anytime.” Tarjei says, smiling, and Henrik nods, returning the same kind, lovely smile.

Never has Henrik been so aroused as quickly as now, but Tarjei’s skilful tongue tracing patterns on his skin is turning him into a moaning mess in no time.

He’s panting harder and harder, reaches for Tarjei’s dishevelled hair to hold onto because the emotions he’s feeling are too strong. He can’t count how many times he’s imagined Tarjei’s mouth on his dick, how much he’s wished for it to happen.

Tarjei drags his lips across the prominent hipbones of Henrik as he wraps his hand around the red, aching shaft twitching near his face, relieving the tension growing into the older boy’s balls. He’s not going to last long, he knows it, is not even sure he'll be able to hold himself back from coming before Tarjei's mouth touches his dick.

“You smell really good, indeed.” The younger boy says as he buries his nose into the short, dark blonde hair at the base of Henrik’s cock, making Henrik flush and laugh.

A first tentative lick along his length and Henrik inhales sharply, his head already spinning and sweat gathering on his forehead.

“I’m going to make you feel really good, ok?” Henrik nods as he looks at Tarjei licking his lips, then throwing him a naughty toothy smile before taking the head of his dick between his lips, sucking gently on it, without breaking the eye contact.

But it’s too intense for Henrik to hold his gaze when Tarjei is doing such dirty things to him, so he drops his head backwards and close his eyes, savours the way Tarjei’s tongue is swirling, caressing the sensitive skin of his glans.

As far back as he can remember, no one has focused so long on the head of his cock, yet it doesn’t displease him. Henrik is sweating a lot now, is suffocating, with his legs shaking, one of his hands caressing Tarjei's hair affectionately.

After sucking and tonguing the head for a little bit, Tarjei reaches for Henrik’s free hand, interlaces their finger together before taking the hard shaft almost entirely into his mouth, making the moment even more intimate.

Good is a very small word, Henrik thinks as Tarjei starts bobbing his head up and down at the perfect rhythm, slobbering on his cock, saliva probably mixed with pre-cum running down his shaft.

Henrik squeezes Tarjei’s hand harder, moans loudly and shamelessly. He needs to watch though, watch Tarjei with his dick into his mouth, wants the image to imprint itself on his memory for a long time to come.

Tarjei looks like he’s thoroughly enjoying what’s doing, humming around his cock from time to time, long lashes fluttering every time he gags, and no need to point out that the sound itself could make Henrik come right away.

He holds back though, doesn’t want for it to stop so soon, not when he’s feeling like he’s in heaven.

But Tarjei suddenly locks eyes with him intensively as the same time as Henrik is raising himself up on his elbows and that’s it.

His cupid bow stretching over his dick combined with his teary eyes make impossible for Henrik to hold back any longer. His balls pull up tight before everything black out before his eyes.

There’s nothing else than waves of pleasure going through his whole body. He feels himself falling back on the mattress, feels Tarjei swallowing every drop of his cum, the tight heat of his mouth sucking hard on the twitching shaft.

Feeling lightheaded, he still finds the courage to speak with a raspy voice, “Fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t warn you.”

Releasing Henrik softening cock from his lips, Tarjei gulps and takes a moment to catch his breath before coming up to Henrik's face. He’s such a sight with his bruised, glistened red lips, pink cheeks and eyes as dark as when he had his mouth full of Henrik’s cock.

“I loved it.” He whispers, then asks, “Can I kiss you?” and Henrik doesn’t care that he’s feeling totally worn out, he accepts. They kiss with the same fervour they were doing one hour ago, and Henrik understands why as soon as Tarjei’s still very big erection hits his hipbone.

“Let me touch you.” Henrik offers, but Tarjei shakes his head, “I really want to try something.” And Henrik is not afraid anymore, endorphin still flooding into his brain he nods and lets himself get manhandled.

Tarjei turns him on his side, bites gently at the back of his neck and says sheepishly, “I want to fuck your thighs, can I do that?”

Henrik pauses a few seconds as his brain slowly takes the information in. It’s definitively the weirdest thing someone asked him during sex but he’s curious.

“Yeah-, ok.” He stutters, turning his head in an uncomfortable position to be able to look at Tarjei. “But how? I mean, I don’t have lube.”

A chaste kiss on Henrik’s abused lips and Tarjei says nonchalantly, “With spit.”

After he's spiting onto his palm, Tarjei coats his dick slowly with his saliva and moans, “I’m not going to last long, you’re such a sight like that,” then starts jerking himself off as he eyes the curve of Henrik’s back and ass.

Putting a hand on Henrik’s narrow waist, the younger boy whispers, “Curve your back.” His warm breath caressing Henrik’s neck, eliciting goose bumps on his skin, while he rubs the tip of his very wet and hard cock between Henrik’s crack, startling the older boy who lets out an embarrassing moan.

For a moment Henrik thinks about Tarjei’s dick slowly entering his ass and this thought is enough to make his dick chubbing up again.

Tarjei doesn’t linger there though, his cock sliding down to the crook between his thighs, where his balls and perineum meet. Cupping his balls to makes things easier for Tarjei he shamelessly teases, “Is it how you picture it in your head, when you think about fucking me?”

He can’t believe he was almost fainting a few minutes ago, balls empty and body wrecked, because now he’s fully awake again, eyes wide open and dick hardening.

As he slides his cock between Henrik’s trembling thighs, Tarjei lets out a sharp gasp, “God, yes.” The fingers sinking onto his waist are probably bruising the skin there, but Henrik loves it, loves how strong Tarjei is, loves the strength he puts into each one of his thrusts as he begins a crazy dance with his hips.

Their bodies touching from shoulders to toes, Henrik angles his face to press his lips on Tarjei, because he can’t bear not to kiss him for too long.

It’s messy, there’s too much teeth, bites and clumsy swirl of tongue, but for Henrik those hungry kisses are the hottest. 

Tarjei’s fingers release Henrik’s hip, his hand coming up to flatten against his chest to draw the older boy even closer, Henrik’s back now fully pressed against Tarjei’s front.

“I’m sorry.” Tarjei whispers into his ear, voice halting, “I’m sorry for what I said.”

Tarjei's fragility tonight is disconcerting, Henrik does not really know what to do about it, how to react toward him, so he keeps his mouth shut, swallows all the confessions he would like to say to him and kisses the corner of his mouth instead. “I forgive you.” And Henrik does not regret his decision when he sees Tarjei’s face brightening.

After a short moment where they stare tenderly at each other, Henrik notices Tarjei’s mouth falling open, him squeezing his eyes shut as the younger boy’s body starts to shake and shiver against him. Small whimpers filling the quietness of the room, Henrik can’t take his eyes off Tarjei as the boy climaxes.

He’s so gorgeous, his forehead puckered, and brows snapped together, his jaw now clenched as he lets himself get consumed by the pleasure. Tarjei shots his load onto the smooth skin of Henrik’s thighs, covering them with white, thick ribbons.

It’s so sexy, being tattooed by Tarjei’s seed, that if Henrik wouldn’t be so wear out he would go for another round.

“I’m knackered!” Tarjei exclaims, placing soft kisses along the nape of Henrik’s neck, “Thanks for it.”

“You don’t have to thanks me.” Henrik chuckles as he turns around, his neck hurting after the uncomfortable position he’s been in for a while.

“Let me clean the mess.” Tarjei suggests, flushing as he takes the creased sheet between his hand to wipe the drying cum of Henrik’s skin. It makes Henrik laughs, “I have tissues, you know.”

“I have no energy left.” Tarjei sighs, curling up against Henrik like a cute, small animal, making Henrik’s heart melt for the umpteenth times tonight.

He doesn’t recall a night where he has slept as tight as that one. Tarjei’s warm breath tickling the crook of his neck, the heat of the younger’s body comforting him. That’s all he’s always dreamed about.

And it doesn’t matter if he decides to take the risk to suffer, to get hurt, because every single moment with Tarjei is worth it.


End file.
